#i should’ve walked out of that interview man. i’m so glad she didn’t hire me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xbaepsae · 3 years

Text

same old mistakes (m)

“But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong.”

[rich boy!hoseok x reader]

genre: country club!au, smut, slightly angsty, some fluff

word count: 12.8k

rating: mature

warnings: sex. lots and lots of unprotected sex lmao (please use protection), slight rough sex, some jealousy, rich prick asshole jung hoseok, mentions of alcohol, language, golf terminology (i’m sorry if it’s wrong idk anything about golf LMAO) oblivious mutual pining lol

a/n: omg this fic absolutely consumed me these last few weeks. i haven’t been able to think about anything else, which is why i haven’t been super active lol. so glad i finished this before the upcoming valentine’s holiday and hobi’s birthday <3 loved writing this so much! rich asshole hoseok has my heart. xoxo

You have never felt more flustered in your life.

It’s the summer after your first year of college, and you decided to come home—to spend a little time with your mother and her new husband. Well, more like she begged you to come home. You actually wanted to visit your roommate’s family on the coast, and spend your days at the beach, but your mother insisted that you come home instead.

Now that you are home, she doesn’t even have time to spend with you. She and her husband are too busy vacationing; that should’ve been you. You can’t even bear to look at your roommate’s Instagram account. And worse of all, your mother signed you up for a job you did not consent to.

“You did what?”

Your mother blinked back at you, feigning innocence. “I heard from Mrs. Lee—you know, our neighbor down the street that attends the local country club—and she said that they were hiring for the summer. You know how rich people love their golf and fancy dinners.”

“And you just decided to volunteer me?” You couldn’t believe her. “I don’t want to work at some prissy country club.”

“Weren’t you just complaining about being broke last week?” She really did not need to expose you like that. “This’ll be good for you, honey.”

Thus, you found yourself standing in front of the country club not even a week later. They hadn’t even asked you to do an interview; you just talked to a manager on the phone and she said for you to just come in. Honestly, too suspiciously easy but what could you do about it? Your mother had been right—you did need the money.

When you arrived, you were immediately whisked away into training. There, one of the girls, Soyoung, fitted you into the uniform—a plain white polo and khaki shorts—and told you what you’d be doing here.

“So, there are a lot of different areas here,” she began, “as you can see from how big this country club is. So, you might find yourself working in different areas occasionally…but for now, you’re going to be on the course with the drink cart.”

Soyoung explained that as the drink cart girl, you’d be driving a golf cart around while handing out beer and other drinks to the golfers on the course. It seemed easy enough, except you’d never driven a golf cart before…or tried to sell people something. However, Soyoung assured you it was easy.

But that was about an hour ago. Since then, a lot has happened. You managed to get the golf cart to work, but it is considerably different from an actual car. The forward/backwards switches were tripping you up. Because of that, you already knocked over a display…or two.

Which leads you to your most embarrassing moment.

For some reason, you forgot that being back in your hometown means the possibility of running into people you went to high school with. The thought just didn’t seem to come to mind. Being off at university has made you forget about all of those idiots you used to be around every day. Until now, when you bump into one of them. Literally.

You really hadn’t seen him behind you; then again, you weren’t looking, which was probably not the greatest idea. But you blindly backed up and hit him. Not that you were going fast or anything, but he did cause an outburst.

“Oh my—fuck! Watch where you’re going!”

Horrified, you press onto the breaks. Turning around, an apology begins to fall from your lips. “I am so sorry. It’s my first time—”

“Y/n?”

You freeze at the voice; it sounds awfully familiar. Blinking a few times, your eyes focus on the person in front of you. And your stomach sinks. Standing in front of you is none other than Jung Hoseok—the last person you ever expected to see again.

He must see the recognition fill your eyes because he instantly smirks. “Wow, it really is you. It’s been a while, huh? Haven’t seen you since graduation.”

An awkward laugh passes through your teeth. “Yeah…it really has.”

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” his smirk seems to widen, and his eyes travel down to your clothes. “You work here or something?”

“Yeah…just started today, actually.”

He nods appreciatively. “Nice. Well, I’m here almost every day, so, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

I hope not. “Sure.”

Just as Hoseok opens his mouth to say something else, someone calls his name. He looks away from you, and that’s when you finally allow yourself a moment to look at him. For the first time, you realize how long a year is and how much change can happen in that time frame. Even though it irks you a bit to think about, he looks really good—even in his damn polo and khakis.

You take in the curved slope of his nose, the way his brows are perfectly arched to match his equally perfect eyes. And you’re almost blinded by his pearly white smile. Perhaps, Hoseok has always been attractive—dark, windswept hair and all. You’ve just never wanted to admit it; even after that one—

“Catch you around, y/n,” he suddenly says, and that’s when you realize he’s caught you. He smirks and shoots you a wink as he walks away, leaving you to mentally kick yourself alone.

***

In high school, you and Jung Hoseok were in different crowds. He was preppy and popular—kind of snooty, to be honest—and you were just normal. Not popular, but not a complete wallflower either. Despite not being in the same circles, you both had a few classes together; which meant that you knew each other decently well. At least, you knew enough about Hoseok that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Except for that one, momentarily lapse of judgment, your conscious suddenly reminds you. But you’d rather not think about that right now.

Another thing about Hoseok that you knew of was his background; he came from money—a lot of it, actually. You don’t know exactly what his family does, but they’re those old money types; the kind of rich people that have been rich forever. Which helped to explain his popularity in high school, and how he had a country club membership now.

You wished you knew that before you got the job here.

As you drive around the golf course, feeling more comfortable driving the cart now, you may or may not be on the lookout for Hoseok. Now that you know he’s here, your eyes seem to search for him everywhere. And it’s not because you want to see him; you want to avoid him, if possible.

It’s not until you’re halfway through the course that you see him with a group of other guys, which—to your displeasure—are also people you went to high school with. It’s fitting though, you presume, considering they were all close then as well.

You don’t know anything about golf, but you watch as Hoseok lines up his club to the ball. He swings only once, and the ball flies. You follow where it goes and watch as it hits the grass and rolls right into the hole. His friends cheer for him as he turns around with a smug look on his face. “And that, everyone, is how you fucking do it.”

“Nice, man,” one person—who you recognize as Jeon Jeongguk—says, moving to pat him on the back.

“The motherfucking GOAT,” another—Kim Namjoon—laughs.

“Maybe you should just go pro or something, dude,” the last guy says, and you recognize him as Kim Seokjin. “Because you’ve hit an ace, birdie or eagle at every hole.”

Hoseok laughs at that. “Maybe I’m just lucky today.”

“Dude probably just had good ass last night,” Namjoon smirks. “So, who was it?”

“A gentleman does not kiss and tell, my friend,” Hoseok winks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the banter between all of these men. Disgusting. “But if you really want to know…”

“Not you trying to get Hoseok’s sloppy seconds,” Seokjin speaks directly to Namjoon. “Because we all know how that went the first time with—”

“It wasn’t my fault Katie caught feelings,” Hoseok interrupts, walking back towards the rest of his friends. “I told her it was a one-time thing.”

Jeongguk struggles not to laugh as he moves up to line his club and ball. “And then you introduced her to Namjoon.”

“And she used him to get closer to…” Seokjin starts to say, but then he notices you. You’ve never seen someone straighten up so quickly. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough,” you say as three pairs of eyes turn to look in your direction as well. “Um, drinks?”

“Took you long enough to get here, y/n. I was starting to wonder when you’d arrive,” Hoseok takes a step in your direction, and you watch as the rest of the guys do a double take.

Namjoon is the first to speak, “Ah…y/n. Yes, I remember you…we had chemistry together, right?”

“Oh my gosh, you were in my calculus class!” Jeongguk exclaims, golf club still mid-air.

“I don’t think we had any classes together,” Seokjin says with a pout. “Because if we did, I would’ve remembered you for sure.”

For some reason, you feel your cheeks get hotter. “Um, thanks?”

You can tell they want to say more to you, but Hoseok shoots his friends a look you can’t see, and they close their mouths immediately. Turning back to you, he takes another step close to your golf cart. “A beer for each of us.”

“Aren’t you all underage—”

“No one cares here, y/n,” he cuts you off with a smirk. “Besides, Seokjin’s father owns this country club—we can do whatever the fuck we want.”

Shock passes through you at this news, mouth dropping at the realization that Hoseok and his friends might be more privileged than you originally thought.

“And we don’t usually have to pay for anything, but”—he fishes for something in his pocket— “here.”

You look down at his extended hand, where a crumpled 100-dollar bill sits, and practically gawk at it. Who carries such large bills around so casually? “What—?”

“Keep the change,” he stares you right in the eyes, and you have no other choice but to accept the money.

“Thanks,” you manage to say before reaching around to grab four beers from the cooler.

As each bottle is plucked from your hands, Hoseok is the last person to grab his; and the way his fingers accidentally touch your own seems like no accident at all. Although it was only for a few seconds at most, his touch leaves your skin burning. Burning for what? You don’t know; but it lingers the rest of your shift in a way that is so distracting, you nearly hit someone else with the golf cart.

***

“So let me get this story straight, you saw a guy you fucked for the first time in a year and now you don’t know what to do with yourself. Worst of all, his presence at your new job is going to be the death of you.”

You cringe at your roommates’ words. “God, why do you have to say it like that.”

“I mean, that’s who he is right?” her voice echoes through the screen.

She’s not wrong, but it still doesn’t sit right with you. “When you say it like that, it’s just weird.”

“Y/n, you act like you haven’t fucked other guys before.”

“Yes, but what happened with Jung Hoseok was a mistake,” you breathe. “It was never supposed to happen.”

Her pixilated expression softens upon seeing your clear distress. “I understand, babe. We all do things we regret.”

But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong. It wasn’t like he coerced you into that bedroom; you willingly followed him inside. And you can’t even blame it on the alcohol because you had been as sober as the day you were born.

It was graduation weekend, and everyone had come out to celebrate. You really didn’t want to go, but some of your friends forced you. Just enjoy the time we still have together, y/n, they had said. Ironic, because you no longer spoke to any of them.

Around the fire, behind the massive patio of someone’s house, drinks were poured and passed around. Even though you held a red solo cup in your hand, the murky liquid didn’t draw you in; you hated the way alcohol tasted back then. Still kind of do. But you simply pretended like you were enjoying yourself.

Every single part of you wanted to leave early that night, but you didn’t. You ended up staying because of Hoseok. It was something about the way he carried himself at that bonfire that night. Before, you never saw him as anything more than a spoiled brat; however, the flames of the fire seemed to soften him before your eyes. Because before you knew it, Hoseok pulled you away from the stares of everyone else.

You don’t even remember what happened—what you two talked about or didn’t talk about. But something happened before he kissed you. Unfortunately, it’s all a blur now.

After swelling your lips with, what seemed like, a thousand kisses, he told you he wanted more; and you told him yes. The memory of him rushing with you through the house and into a vacant room still burns hotly in your mind. You had been giddy with nerves and excitement as he pushed you against the closed door, sucking the air from your lungs.

Hoseok ripped your clothes off with practiced hands, clearly experienced with this, and made you come undone more times than you can recall. Throughout this whole exchange, not much was said; but no words were needed when he could read your body so well.

The both of you ended up falling asleep like that—tangled in each other’s arms. And when you woke up a few hours later to the rising sun, horror filled your veins like a shock of ice.

You left without saying anything. Not that you think he would’ve cared either way. Jung Hoseok seemed like he would be used to stuff like that.

You just never thought you’d see him again one year later.

But here he is.

***

During your next few weeks at the country club, you try your best to avoid Hoseok.

This, however, proves difficult to do since you can hear his laughter echoing everywhere. From the hallways to the range, you can’t seem to escape him at all. And it doesn’t help that his friends all seem to be around too.

Every time you catch even the smallest glimpse of him, you turn in the opposite direction. You aren’t sure if he can tell that you’re avoiding him or not, but you don’t care—you just want to get this summer over with already.

“Y/n!”

Turing in the direction your name is being called, you see Soyoung walking towards you. You offer her a tight smile, hoping she isn’t here to tell you that you’re in trouble or something. “Soyoung. What’s up?”

“Do you mind helping me clean up a little by the pool? I know you just got done on the range, but a girl called out and I could really use the help.” She gives you this sad puppy look, which means you can’t refuse her offer. So, begrudgingly, you follow her back outside.

In the hot summer sun, the large crystal blue pool looks like temptation. Soyoung notices your face and laughs. At her laughter, you realize you’ve never seen the pool this close. You pass by the canopy lined pool lounge every day, but you’re not a maid here or on lifeguard duty so you’ve never had a reason to linger very long.

“Looks inviting, huh?”

All you can do is hum in agreement as you begin helping Soyoung pick up disserted pool towels and throwing them into the hamper. As you’re bending down to retrieve a particularly wet towel on the concrete, the hot sun beating down your back is suddenly gone. You look up and notice there’s a shadow blocking the sun—a suspiciously familiar shadow.

Immediately, your back straightens, and you turn around to face a shirtless Hoseok. His hair is wet from the pool, which means beads of water are cascading down his chest. You try not to stare, but he’s literally so close; there’s nowhere else to look. Your eyes follow the towel in his hand as he begins to dry himself up, going from his abdomen before they travel down to the dark trail of hair that leads to—

You freeze and force your eyes back up, but the smile on his face tells you that you got caught—again.

“Like what you see?” His smile seems to grow wider at your expression.

You scowl. “In your dreams, Jung Hoseok.”

He leans down, face inches from yours, whispering, “If I remember correctly, that dream already came true…one year ago.”

Before you can say anything, he stands back up to his full height and brushes past you—his naked skin burning holes through your clothes. Once he’s a few steps away from you, you realize his friends were also there the whole time. Embarrassment burns your cheeks at what they might’ve thought, but their expressions remain too ambiguous for you to read as they follow their friend.

“I didn’t know you knew Hoseok.”

Your head whips towards Soyoung. “I don’t…I mean, not really. We just went to high school together.”

But your coworker doesn’t seem to buy it. “Really? I’ve been working here for a few summers and those guys have always been around, especially because Seokjin’s dad is the owner. I’ve tried to make small talk with them a few times, but they’re pretty intimidating.”

“They’re pricks,” you tell her. “Typical entitled rich boys.”

“I suppose so,” she hums, throwing the last towel into the bin. “Anyway, can I ask for another favor?”

All you can do is nod. “What?”

“I have another thing I have to do,” Soyoung starts, making you realize she works pretty hard here, “so, can you put these towels in the laundry room? You don’t have to start a load or anything; just leave them and one of the maids will wash them later.”

She slips the laundry room key into your pocket, telling you to give it back to her later, as she rushes off to her next task. Which leaves you to find the laundry room by yourself. After nearly ten minutes of searching, you find it tucked in a small hallway.

Opening the door, you push the dirty towel hamper into the room. You look around and see multiple washers, dryers, and a lot of storage shelves filled with miscellaneous items. You’re so caught up in looking around the room that you almost don’t hear the door close. At the sound of the lock clicking into place, you turn around; immediately, your heart starts beating faster.

“What are you doing in here?”

Hoseok leans against the door, no longer shirtless like before, and smirks at you. “I was following you.”

Like that’s not weird at all. “Stalker much?”

“Just wanted to know why you’ve been avoiding me, that’s all,” he pushes off the door, taking a step closer. You unconsciously take a step back, hitting the hamper.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lie.

He just blinks at you. “You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You’re shocked that he can read you so well. “Okay, so what if I am avoiding you? It’s not like you should care. Just leave me alone.”

For a brief moment, something passes over his eyes; but the emotion’s gone before you can think about it. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What?” Now, it was your turn to blink rapidly.

Hoseok takes another step towards you, severing whatever distance there had been before. His arms move to cage you between himself and the dirty hamper. Slowly, he leans down, making sure not to move his eyes away from yours. “I can’t just leave you alone—not when you’re the only thing on my mind.”

“What are you trying to say—” his hand wrapping around your jaw shuts you up.

“To put it simply, I can’t stop thinking about you—about that night after graduation,” he says, eyes swirling with a darkness you know all too well.

“But that was a year ago,” you manage to say through clenched teeth, and he loosens his grip on you.

His signature smirk lights his lips. “So?”

“I was drunk,” you lie again. “I don’t even remember what happened.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t remember this?” One hand curves around your hip. “Or this?” Another wraps around your waist. “Or this?” He plants his lips onto your jaw.

You release a harsh breath as the memories of that night come flooding back. Heat begins to pool in your stomach from his touch. As he peppers kisses along your jaw and down your neck, your hands move to fist his shirt. Just as a moan threatens to leave your throat, he pulls away.

Your lips part in indignation at the loss of touch, and Hoseok just smirks even wider. “I thought you said you don’t remember?”

“I’m going to kill you, Jung Hoseok,” your frustration is through the roof.

“Tell me you remember.”

Right now, there are two sides of you fighting. There’s one part of you that wants to tell Hoseok you don’t remember a single thing—that you really had been drinking graduation night. But there’s an even larger part of you that wants him so bad—to feel the same high you felt a year ago.

So, you settle with, “But I’m working right now.”

Hoseok’s eyes turn obsidian as his smirk drops. “I’ll be quick.”

He pulls you away from the hamper and pushes you, stomach first, against one of the washers. Suddenly, you realize what’s about to happen and you try to force the dopey smile off your face by biting your lip. In one swift motion, he unbuttons and pulls both your shorts and panties down to your ankles. By the sudden coolness below, you already know you’re soaking.

And Hoseok must realize this too because you feel him swipe a long finger over your folds. You instinctively jerk back, letting out a moan at the slight pressure. “Hoseok—”

“Fuck, y/n, you’re so wet for me already,” he groans, using a second finger against your wetness. He slowly rubs your clit and you can’t help but tighten your grip against the cool machine. “Wonder if you’ve been wet since we saw each other earlier.”

You roll your eyes. Typical, cocky Jung Hoseok. “Of course not, you douchebag.”

“I beg to differ,” he hums, inserting a single digit inside of you. “So tight—just like I remembered. Tell me, y/n, has anyone else had the pleasure to fuck your pretty pussy after me?”

His words cause you tense for a moment, before replying, “Yes, asshole. I went to college. What do you think?”

“I’m thinking that I’m about to fuck you so good,” he starts and finishes with a whisper, “that you won’t remember any of them.”

If you weren’t already turned on before, you were now. Hoseok continues to fuck with his finger, slowly adding a second one, edging you until you’re a panting mess before him. “S-Stop teasing—I thought you said you were going to be quick?”

“I will be,” he promises, and you can hear him pushing the waistband of his swim trunks down. You’re dying to see his cock again, so you turn and nearly drool at the sight of his angry red tip. For some reason, he looks bigger than you remember and that worries you a little. “What? Think it won’t fit?”

You raise your eyes to look at his, and he has the sexiest expression on his face you’ve ever seen. “No. It fit before, right?”

He licks his lips as he brings his cock close to your entrance, brushing his head back and forth against your clit. You turn back around, arching your back more in hopes that he’ll finally just stick it inside already. But before you can get too lost in the moment, you gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He actually sounds concerned.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, facing him again. And by the pained expression on his face, he doesn’t. You let out a frustrated groan at getting all worked up for nothing. You’re about to reach down for your panties when he pushes you back into place. “What?”

“Are you on the pill?”

“Yes,” you answer, “but the pill is only—”

“I’ll pull out,” he says. “And I’m clean, I swear.”

You look into his eyes and seeing the desperation in them makes you want to indulge him. “I’m clean too.”

Hoseok breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank fucking god.”

“You better pull out, or I swear Jung—”

You fail to get the rest of your words out because he slams his cock into you. And you’re right—he is bigger than you remember. He bottoms out at your cervix and you feel like a mess already. You both moan at the feeling of being connected like this again, after so long, and Hoseok keeps his promise and wastes no time.

He thrusts into you hard and fast, leaving you to do nothing but take everything he has to give. “Fuck, Hoseok—oh my god.”

Earlier, he talked about fucking your past sexual exploits out of you, but there was no need to mention anything at all; no one compares to him. They never had a chance.

“Shit, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips.

And soon enough, you feel your orgasm approaching. It’s slow building, but it’s there and you want it. You figure you’ll just chase it yourself. Reaching a hand down, you find your clit and begin rubbing it. But just as soon as you feel yourself get closer to the high you desire, your hand is ripped away.

There is a sudden weight on your back as Hoseok whispers in your ear, “That’s my job, sweetheart.”

His fingers find your sensitive nub and you come immediately, screaming a string of curses into your arms in hopes that no one hears you. As you ride your high, you feel him pull out. With a groan, his cum spills all over your ass.

As you try to catch your breath and calm your erratic heart, you feel Hoseok pull his shorts back up and take a step back. All of the sudden, a strange feeling builds up in your chest. Is this what loss feels like? But you don’t have much time to dwell on your own thoughts because you feel a towel wiping your body.

You turn and see Hoseok cleaning the mess he made; but instead of looking down, he’s looking right at you.

“What?” you ask, sounding defensive.

“Nothing,” he says, and you hate that you can’t read people well. You wish you could know what he’s thinking right now.

After he cleans between your thighs, you pull your clothes back up your body. You still have a few hours left of your shift, so you hope you don’t look too much like a mess right now. Pulling your hair into a low ponytail, you feel awkwardness hit you like a truck. What are you supposed to say now?

“Uh…I have to go,” you can’t even look at him. “We have a meeting this afternoon…”

You don’t have a meeting, but you don’t know what else to say. But unlike you, Hoseok can take a hint and nods. “I’ll leave first…see you around…and thanks.”

He stares at you for a moment longer before leaving the room. You look out to make sure he’s a considerable distance away before you follow, ducking into the bathroom to check your appearance. Once you look into the mirror, you barely recognize the person you’re seeing.

The girl in front of you has flushed cheeks and sweaty hair.

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what happened. In all honesty, your body aches in the best possible way. And even after your shift, once you get home and lay in your bed, you’re still thinking about everything.

Did you really willingly have sex with Jung Hoseok a second time? Once is a mistake, twice clearly means there was choice involved. What would your roomie say if she knew? You don’t plan on telling her—at least, not until you get back to school. If she knew you had succumbed to his charms this early in the summer, she’d chew you out for sure. Besides, you won’t let it happen again.

There will be no more slip ups this summer.

***

“Oh, fuck—yes. Right there…!”

You cling to the shelf as Hoseok fucks you from behind. Your legs feel impossibly weak from being in such an uncomfortable position, but you couldn’t care less right now—you just want to come.

“Don’t be so loud, sweetheart,” he groans through clenched teeth. “Don’t want to get caught now, do we?”

“N-No…but if you d-don’t make me c-come quicker, Hoseok…” you moan, and he proceeds to thrust faster. You don’t want to scream, but it just feels so fucking good for you not to. “I’m going to—”

Hoseok clamps a hand over your mouth as you come undone. Your eyes shut on their own accord as you scream into his hand, body shaking from the impact of your orgasm. He curses, probably from how tight you’re gripping his cock, but continues to thrust a few more times before pulling out and painting you in strings of milky white.

Once your body shops shaking, he pulls you up and presses a kiss onto your exposed shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Thanks.”

The two of you quickly clean up and readjust your clothes. You’re supposed to be organizing after all—at the place you are working at for the summer—not fucking an old high school classmate. Hoseok leaves with a promise of finding you later, and you’re left alone with your thoughts again.

What just happened?

You really did mean it when you said that you didn’t want to have sex with Hoseok again, but here you are anyway. It’s already been a month since the first incident, and you’ve been sneaking quickies around the entire country club with Hoseok.

Every time you think you’re alone, he manages to find you and that infuriating smirk makes you helpless. You’ve lost track of how many times he’s already managed to make your panties drop. But even though he seeks you out for sex, every now and then he sticks around to have a conversation with you.

You feel your resolve crumbling away every time you get a glimpse of the human Hoseok.

“So, what are you studying in school?” he asked one day, settling beside you on the floor of the laundry room.

“Is it bad that I’m undecided?” You tried to laugh it off, but the sober expression on his face stopped you.

He shook his head. “No, you have time.”

And just like, all felt okay in the world.

“What about you?” you managed to ask.

The scrunch of his nose had been nearly undetectable, but you noticed it. “Business. My father wants me to take over the company one day.”

“And you don’t?” the question slipped past your lips without a second thought. You’d been horrified.

“I don’t mind business, but I don’t want my father’s. I’d rather start my own.”

This truth had been rather insightful, and you couldn’t help but change the way you looked at Hoseok—only a little though. You still thought he was an asshole.

After another moment pondering your idiocy, you go back to whatever you were doing before. Just as you place the last shampoo bottle on the rack, a knock sounds on the door. You jump, wondering if it’s Hoseok again; but when it opens, it’s just Soyoung. “Hey—you’ve been in here for a while. Almost done?”

If only she knew.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, just finished,” you try to smile. “Got a little distracted in here, I guess.” A little more than distracted.

Soyoung offers an understanding expression. “Feel that. These storage rooms can be a bit overwhelming.”

“Did you need something?” you ask, changing the conversation.

“I actually bring word from our manager. You don’t work tomorrow night, right?” Tomorrow is Saturday and one of the few days you actually have off this week. You’re dreading what Soyoung is about to tell you. “She asked if you could come in for a few hours—just to help with dinner. They’re expecting a big crowd tomorrow night since there’s a fundraiser happening during the day. It’ll be like three hours max.”

You think about it for a moment, rolling your lips between your teeth. Honestly, you don’t want to come in on your day off—who wants to work when they don’t have to—but three hours doesn’t sound so bad.

“Just three hours?”

Soyoung nods. “Just three hours. I’ll be helping with the dinner too, so we’ll get to work together. And afterwards, we can go to a party, if you want.”

That piques your interest, even though you aren’t one to go out often. “What party?”

“There’s a few houses on this property—they’re rented out to people who want to stay at the country club for an extended amount of time. And I heard from some of the other employees that a party is being hosted at one of the houses. Anyone and everyone is invited—even us.”

For some reason, you actually want to go to this party. Why? Maybe you just want to forget about Jung Hoseok’s charismatic smirk. A party should be a good distraction. So, you tell Soyoung that you’ll come work tomorrow and attend the party with her.

And the girl gives you hug, promising that it’ll be loads of fun.

You hope she’s right.

***

The next night, you arrive to work in a different version of your uniform. Instead of the usual polo and shorts the country club has you normally donned in, you’re wearing a long sleeve button up and black slacks. In your bag, you brought a change of clothes for later. Thankfully, you remembered to grab it on your way out. Imagine having to wear your server uniform to a party.

That would’ve been a social suicide.

You meet up with Soyoung for a few minutes before the dinner staff collects you all together. They debrief about tonight’s expectations and everyone’s roles. Next, they list all the jobs and when they call your name, you find out you’re going to be taking orders.

“Do I also need to bring the food out?” you ask.

One of the leaders shakes their head. “No, we’ll have people specifically there for that.”

After all the roles are established, dinner officially begins and you try not to look dumbstruck when you walk into the formal dining hall. This is the first time you’ve been in this room and it’s absolutely magnificent. You continue staring around for a moment before walking towards your section of the room—a row of tables by the window overlooking the setting sun.

You proceed taking orders from the first table—a family of four—and then the next—a group of six—before walking to a table that only seats two people. Probably a date. You barely look at the couple as you push a strand of loose hair behind your ear and pull out the notepad.

“Can I take your orders?” you ask, click your pen.

“Yes,” says a nasally voice to your right. You follow it, meeting the profile of a gorgeous girl. Long, silky hair drapes down her back in waterfalls and she’s wearing a tight pink dress. You think that she’ll turn her attention to you, but she doesn’t; she keeps staring at her date. “I’ll have the ratatouille. What about you, Hobi?”

Hobi? “I told you not to call me that, Nina.”

She pouts. “But you let me call you that when we were kids.”

“Yeah, we were kids then.”

You spare a look at Nina’s date and nearly falter when you realize who this Hobi is. It’s none other than Jung Hoseok himself. He’s wearing a fitted charcoal suit, hair slicked back slightly. Even from this view, you can tell his suit is expensive; definitely imported and tailored fitted to his body. Still, you can feel yourself salivating. The man looks like absolute sin, and you feel a sudden flash of jealousy because he’s on a date with someone else—someone he seems to know pretty well.

But you realize you have no right to feel that emotion at all. He’s not yours to have. You both just happen to be sexually compatible. That is all. You two never talked about being exclusive. He is allowed to see other girls, even though the thought makes you feel a little sick.

Hoseok brings his eyes to yours, flashing you a smirk that has your knees weak. “Y/n.”

“You two know each other?” Nina asks, but your eyes don’t move from his.

“A little,” he says. That’s an understatement.

“We just went to high school together,” you add, playing along with his little game. “We weren’t friends though, just happened to be in a few classes together.”

Hoseok feigns hurt, bringing a hand up to his chest. “Can’t believe you think so little of me.”

“Oh, Hobi,” Nina interjects, her hand finding his on top of the table. You zone in on the touch, blood pressure rising when you realize he hasn’t pushed her away.

You try not to roll your eyes. “Yes, poor Hobi.”

When you turn back to him, he’s already looking at you. You stiffen for a second, wondering if his eyes have been on you this whole time. And by the scathing sensation you feel on the side of your head—Nina’s eyes, no doubt—you realize he probably has. “Um. Anyway, what did you want?”

He smirks again. “I’ll have the same, y/n.”

You quickly jot it down and excuse yourself before you start thinking too much.

The rest of your short shift, you make sure not to walk by Hoseok’s table again. Whenever you’re around him, you can’t think properly. He always seems to cloud your best judgment, which is why you’ve already been fucking him this summer. You allow work to consume you, which makes the time fly by. Before you know it, the three hours is already up and you’re headed to the bathroom with Soyoung.

“See? Wasn’t that bad, huh?” she asks from the cubicle beside you.

It was terrible. “Could’ve been worse, I guess.”

“I’m so excited about the party,” Soyoung changes the conversation. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a night out.”

You can’t help the next words that bubble out of you. “Why do you overwork yourself?”

Honestly, you didn’t mean to ask. After all, it isn’t your business to ask such questions anyway. Sure, you were curious about Soyoung but it’s not your place. You’ve been really testing boundaries recently.

“It just kind of happens,” she answers, which shocks you. Not the answer itself, but the fact that she even answered you at all. “I’ve been working here for so long, I guess I just can’t help it.”

“Well,” you sigh, “don’t overwork yourself. Live a little, you know.”

Soyoung laughs. “I’ll try.”

You step out of the stall first, moving to stand in front of the full-length mirror. Tonight, you opted for a flowy crop top and tight skirt. Not something you’d usually wear, but tonight’s different than most nights—you want to enjoy yourself. You pull your hair out of its tight pony, humming in pleasure at the sensation of your hair being free.

“Okay, I see you with the sexy hair.”

You didn’t even hear Soyoung’s stall unlocking or opening. Turning in her direction, you see she’s wearing something similar to you. Only, both her top and skirt are flowy. “More like messy hair.”

She laughs. “It looks good still.”

After running a hand through your hair a few times, and fixing your makeup, the two of you throw your bags into your respective vehicles and walk across the country club’s property. Not even five minutes later, you can hear music playing. Across the distance, you can see a massive house—no, villa—lit up with lights and people all over the place.

“Woah,” you breathe.

“Right?” Soyoung chuckles. “I told you this party was going to be it.”

“I thought you said it was going to be a house party.”

“It is?” She seems confused.

You shake your head. “Are all the houses on the country club property this big?”

Even in the dim lighting, you can see her nod. “I think so. Maybe not this big, but they’re all large enough to house multiple people.”

Damn. You wonder who’s renting this place for the summer. It’s huge, so there must be more than one person; maybe a family? Though, that seems odd since a party filled with young people is happening right now. However, you can’t even begin to fathom how much it costs to rent. How can anyone actually afford that?

But all thoughts of money fade when you actually reach the villa. You assume there’s mainly college-aged people here, though it’s difficult to tell age these days. Soyoung leads the way as you two maneuver past groups of people and into the villa itself. Once inside, you have to force yourself not to gawk at everything.

Grand doesn’t even begin to describe the interior. There’s so much to look at and before you can even begin to look at everything, Soyoung pulls you away. She finds the kitchen and hands you a drink from the cooler. You remove the lid and begin sipping, tasting the slight bitterness of alcohol on your tongue.

“So what do we do now?” You’re acting like such a noob.

Soyoung slants a look at you. “We mingle, maybe dance a little. Do you like dancing?”

You bite the inside of your lip. “Umm, kind of?”

Of course, you’ve been to your fair share of college parties—where dancing and drinking do not mix well. But you don’t mind it; you just don’t think you’re very good. You voice this thought out loud and Soyoung rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have to be good at dancing. You just have to do it. Usually, it comes naturally.”

You aren’t too sure about that statement. But as Soyoung pulls you in a new direction, away from the kitchen, you realize that you have no choice. In another large room adjacent to the kitchen, someone has started a makeshift dancefloor. The bass is booming against the wall and strobe lights illuminate the room.

Even though you’re struggling, Soyoung pulls you both into the middle of the room and spins you around to the music. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” she shouts over the music, proceeding to move her body dramatically. You can’t help but laugh. Shaking your head, you realize dancing really isn’t a big deal and you allow Soyoung to move you to the beat. And eventually, you can do it by yourself.

You close your eyes as you sway to the music, occasionally bumping into Soyoung on purpose. It even gets to the point where you feel comfortable enough to lift your arms into the air, which is something you’d never thought you’d do.

It’s not until a few songs later that you finally open your eyes. And when you do, you immediately meet his gaze.

A jolt of electricity goes up your spine at the look Jung Hoseok is giving you right now. He’s leaning against the fireplace in the room across from you, changed out of that expensive suit he was wearing earlier. Now, he’s only wearing the white button up—sleeves rolled to his elbows—and a pair of navy-blue shorts. In his hand he nurses a beer, and that’s when you realize he’s still with that girl from earlier.

You try to keep your expression neutral as you stare at them; but by the way Hoseok’s hard gaze morphs into something smugger, you know you’re doing a bad job at concealing your feelings.

Dammit.

You quickly whisper something to Soyoung about needing some air as you look for the nearest exit. Unfortunately, you don’t know your way around the house. You meander around for a moment before you find a door that leads to the backyard. Breathing a sigh of relief, you open the door and walk into the cool summer night.

There’s a pathway of rocks that leads to the dock of a body of water—a body of water that you didn’t even know existed. You aren’t sure what to call it; a large pond? Whatever it is, you take the pathway until you reach the end of the dock. There, you settle on the edge and stare at the murky depths.

Bodies of water like this were unpredictable. You had no idea how deep it actually was. It could seem shallow, but in actuality be sixty feet deep. For a second, you consider dipping your toes in; however, you decide against it. Who knows what’s in there?

You allow the echoes of cicadas and other small insects to fill your senses. Eventually, you even lay down on the dock and close your eyes, trying not to think too much about—

“What are you doing?”

Your eyes flash open. And as they adjust to the night, you make out Hoseok’s infuriating perfect face. He’s leaning over you, and it pisses you off that he looks good even from this obscene angle. “Go away.”

“Well, aren’t you grumpy,” he hums. “It seemed like you were having a great time shaking you’re a—”

“Hoseok,” you breathe. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to play your stupid games right now.”

He cracks a rare half-smile. “Who said anything about playing games?”

When you don’t answer him, Hoseok’s smile falls and he frowns. You don’t care what else he has to say; you really meant it when you said you’re not in the mood for him right now. However, the boy doesn’t seem to take the hint like he usually does. Because he settles right beside you on the dock, laying down so he’s now eye-level with you.

“You’re insufferable,” you roll your eyes, shifting away from him.

“That’s what you like about me.”

“Who said I liked you?”

“I think your actions speak louder than you think,” he says, sounding awfully calm right now, which is very unlike him. You have no other choice but to look at him. And when you do, your breath gets caught in your throat. Even in the darkness, his eyes seem to sparkle as he looks at you—so fucking intently like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You don’t like it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you force your eyes away, but his stare burns your skin anyway.

“You were jealous at dinner, weren’t you?”

The scoff that leaves your lips sounds beyond bitter. “No, of course not. Why would I be?”

“If you were jealous,” Hoseok begins, which makes your stomach churn, “don’t be.”

“Huh?” you ask, still not able to look at him.

“Don’t be,” he repeats. “Don’t be jealous of Nina.”

“I wasn’t jealous of—”

He cuts you off. “Don’t be jealous of her. She’s just a family friend.”

“But you two seem so close…”

Hoseok laughs. “I just entertain her because our parents have been friends forever. I’m pretty sure they want me to marry someone like her. I mean, she’s hot”—you suck in a breath— “but she’s not you.”

Your eyes finally give him and meet his, and he’s still staring at you. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

As you both look at each other, you expect him to say something. But he never does. Instead, he scoots a few inches closer to you—so close your noses are almost touching—and runs his fingers through your hair. Weaving his digits through your still messy hair, he pulls your head towards his and your lips meet.

And underneath the moonlight, you allow Hoseok to kiss you until your head is dizzy and you have no choice but to let him consume you again.

***

The next morning, you find yourself wrapped in pristine white sheets that feel like silk beneath your fingers. But that’s not the only thing you’re wrapped in. A heavy arm is slumped over your waist and the body heat emanating from him sets yourself ablaze.

Last night, after Hoseok bruised your mouth and skin with his lips at the dock, you asked him why he was at the party.

“This is my house,” he said so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Your eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Well, my house for the summer at least.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

He nodded. “Our actual house is in the city, and I hate driving back and forth so much—especially since I’m here with the guys nearly every day. So, my parents decided to rent this.”

You didn’t know what to say. But you realized there was nothing that needed to be said because since this is where he was staying, it meant his bedroom was here too. You let him walk you back to the villa and up the stairs into his room, to which you had to text Soyoung and let her know you were headed home early. A lie. You told her you felt sick. Another lie. But she didn’t seem to mind. She had found a few other employees of the country club there and would walk back with them.

After losing track of how many orgasms he gave you, youth both shared a bottle of vodka he had stashed underneath his bed. And tipsy you had no inhibitions.

Every question Hoseok asked, you answered honestly.

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Do you like working at the country club?”

“It’s a job.”

“If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

“Spend my life away on some island.”

He laughed. “Really?”

“Island life s-seems fun. It’s relaxing. You don’t have to worry about anything,” you slightly slurred your words. “You?”

“I think island life seems to be the move now.”

You both talked so much. About anything and everything. It reminded you so much of the first time you really spoke to him. Moments like this made Hoseok feel normal, which you don’t know how to feel about yet.

But one thing you realized you did enjoy was his laugh—his real laugh. Not the one he smirked with, but the one he gave when he thought no one else was watching.

You must’ve said something stupid—you honestly can’t recall it now—but when he doubled over in laughter, it was infectious.

The good thing is that you don’t have work today, which means you don’t have to rush anywhere. But you have a feeling that you’ve overstayed your welcome. You didn’t even mean to stay the night, but you’d been so comfortable in Hoseok’s bed that you fell asleep after all the conversations. It was probably the best sleep you’ve ever had.

You’re going to give the credit to Hoseok’s expensive mattress, and definitely not him.

Though, you can’t deny how good it feels to have him spooning you. A part of you wants to stay in this bed forever, but that’s crazy talk—you shouldn’t have come into the bed with him at all. You keep telling yourself—over and over again—that you don’t want to fuck him again.

But you’ve been such a liar.

Now, you’ve accepted the fact that you can’t resist him. You know it’s just sex, but you didn’t want to get involved with him in the first place.

You take in a few breaths as you try to move his arm off of you. Hoseok shifts a little, and you risk a look over your shoulder. When your eyes take in his face, your heart stutters for a moment. With his mouth slightly parted and eyes still firmly closed, you realize that he looks so peaceful asleep. So vulnerable. You have to force yourself from touching him.

What the fuck, y/n?

Turning back around, you gently pry his arm off of you and pray that you don’t wake him. But all your careful maneuvering proves to be futile because his arm releases from your grip and moves back down to your waist. With a squeal, Hoseok pulls you back on his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” God, his morning voice is so hot.

“Um, leaving?” you sound like an idiot.

“Stay,” he breathes against the back of your head.

You want to. You really, really want to. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” he asks, snaking his arms underneath the covers to find you—skin still bare from last night’s activities. Your breath hitches as his fingers trail across your skin, each touch feeling like sparks.

“I-I have somewhere I have to be,” you stutter as his rough hand wraps around one of your breasts, squeezing tight. Your nipple hardens immediately.

Hoseok slips the covers off your body, exposing you to the cool air-conditioned room. And without warning, he moves on top of you and begins trailing his lips over your body. You notice that he makes sure to suck those bruises he left scattered across your skin extra hard, purpling them even more.

“Hoseok,” you try not to moan. “I really have t-to—”

His lips crashing onto yours shuts you up. You kiss him back forcefully, nipping his lips with your teeth and running your tongue across his. As you two battle it out, he settles in-between your thighs. Bringing a hand down your abdomen, it slides straight to your cunt—which is already drenched.

He hisses against your lips. “So fucking wet. Thought you had to go?”

“Shut up,” you moan as he runs a finger from your ass to your clit, swirling your juices everywhere. Involuntarily, your hips buck up when he slides a finger inside of you. He gently fucks you like that for a moment, leaving you writhing underneath him. “More, Hoseok—I need more.”

A wicked smile erupts on his face. “Are you going to beg for it?”

An incredulous expression lights your face. You’ve never begged in bed before, and you aren’t going to start now. However, the man on top of you is sure getting a kick out of this. Hoseok moves his finger slowly out of you, which agitates you to no end. If you weren’t so horny right now, you’d kill him.

“No,” you narrow your eyes, not willing to give in.

His finger stops moving. “A shame, really.”

You freeze. “What the fuck, Jung Hoseok?”

“I’m not doing anything until you say please,” he smirks, moving his upper body away from you.

Even though you’re pissed, you can’t help but drink in the Adonis in front of you. Like you, Hoseok is completely naked. Your eyes rake his defined muscles and his thick cock that’s already unbelievably hard. He’s hard for you. The fact that you turn him on makes you feel good—too good.

“Fine,” you shrug, and his smirk falls. “Just get blue balls then.”

As his body goes slack for a moment, you use the opportunity to slip from the bed. But you don’t manage to get very far at all. You probably only take three steps before his arm wraps around you and pulls you back to the bed.

You fall on your back, and Hoseok pins your arms on either side to keep you from moving. Still, you squirm—heart drumming in your chest at the look on his face. His eyes have turned black, and he looks like he wants to devour you. “I’m not begging.”

“We’ll see about that.”

With your arms still pinned, Hoseok lowers his body and your legs spread on their own accord. Fuck you, body. The movement makes him chuckle darkly and he begins peppering kisses along your thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat, which turns into a gasp when he suddenly bites down on your flesh. Not hard enough to draw blood, but it’s enough to be painful.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you like it very much.

Hoseok continues alternating between kissing and biting your thighs until you’re one-hundred-percent positive there is a pool of your wetness on the bed. You know what he’s trying to do and it’s working, but you don’t want to give in. And then he’s so close to your pussy, not even an inch away. You can feel his breath fanning you there. If you just move your hips a little…

“Don’t even think about it,” he moves his head away.

You release a groan of frustration. “Oh my god.”

“If you just say the magic word,” he taunts, lips now on your stomach. He moves low, but never low enough; never where you want him to go.

When he moves up your body, pressing chaste kisses on your nipples before latching his lips on your neck, you release a breathy moan. Hoseok lets out a groan from the back of his throat, hands tightening around your wrists. Fuck, why are the noises he makes even attractive? “Hoseok…”

“Y/n,” he’s still sucking on your neck.

This position, you realize, aligns him perfectly with your body. Again, if you were able to move just a little bit…but Hoseok’s weighing you down with his body, not allowing you to move at all.

“Hoseok,” you say his name again, but he doesn’t respond—he just moves his lips to your ear, nibbling on the sensitive flesh there. And that’s when you crumble. You can’t take it anymore. “Please…please just fuck me already.”

Simultaneously, he curses into your ear as he slides his cock into you. Too perfect—the way he fills you up is too perfect.

You expect Hoseok to fuck you hard, hips slamming into you, but he doesn’t. His thrusts are slow, but the way he hits your cervix has you nearly in tears. Fuck. He releases the hold on your wrists to grip onto either side of your face. With lips ghosting over yours, you tangle your hands into his dark hair.

Your breaths mesh together as he continues to fuck you with slow, measured thrusts. You’ve grown accustomed to the rough way Hoseok likes to fuck; but for some reason, you love this so much more. It’s intimate and makes your chest tighten in a strange way but feels so good you don’t want it to stop.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips again.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, rolling his hips in a way that has you arching off the bed. Yes.

“Just like t-that,” you say, slanting your mouth to mold against his again.

Your orgasm comes without warning; you moan into Hoseok’s mouth, gripping him closer to you and you ride your high. Through the haze of your earth-shattering orgasm, you hear Hoseok ask if he can come inside you. He’s always pulled out—even last night when he fucked you for hours. But right now you don’t care, and your answer comes in the form of your legs wrapping around his hips.

He kisses you hard and comes inside you a moment later. You’ve never let anyone else come raw inside of you; never trusted anyone else that much. And in that moment, a terrifying thought flashes across your mind.

I’m in love you.

The thought comes so suddenly, burns your brain so hotly, your body stills. Hoseok finally lifts off of you, eyes crinkling in concern. “You okay?”

You quickly try to shake the feeling away. “Um, yeah.”

“You sure? Should I not have come inside you?” he slips out of you, and for some reason you want to cry at the sudden emptiness you feel. “You’re looking pale right now.”

“No, it was fine,” you blink too fast, feeling tears begin to well in your eyes. Get a fucking grip on yourself. “I’m sorry, I really have to go.”

Hoseok doesn’t try to stop you this time when you move away from the bed. You find your clothes on the floor and slip everything back on without looking at him, even though you can feel his gaze on you the entire time. Not bothering to check your appearance, you grab your stuff and move towards his door.

“Y/n,” he calls your name, voice sounding strange, but you don’t want to look at him. If you look at him, you’re going to start crying. And that’s too embarrassing to explain.

You slip out of his bedroom and take the stairs two at a time. As you rush down, you run into someone. “Sorry—”

Looking up, you realize it’s Seokjin; he must’ve stayed the night. Even in your distress, you feel feverish wondering if you were too loud. However, he takes one look at you and stares like he has you all figured out. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Did something happen…?” he asks, looking at the door you just left wide open upstairs.

“Don’t worry about it,” you quickly say, adverting your eyes and sidestepping him.

This morning, it’s much easier to find the front door. Just as you’re about to slip out, you hear your name being called again, heavy steps thundering down the stairs. Shit, shit, shit. You break into a run and don’t stop until you have no more air to spare in your lungs. Thankfully, you’re far enough from the villa and close to the country club.

Only then do you allow yourself to fall into the grass as the tears finally cascade down your cheeks.

You’re a fool, you realize. A fool to have fallen in love with someone like Jung Hoseok. Someone who will never feel the same way. Someone who just uses you for a good time. someone who you barely even know. Someone you never wanted to get involved with.

***

You call out of work the next week, claiming to have the stomach bug. But you don’t have the stomach bug; in fact, you’re not even physically ill at all. You just can’t bear the thought of running into Hoseok at the country club.

On the first day, you listen to your sad girl hours playlist on repeat.

During your second day of moping in bed, you half consider quitting your job. Would it be too cowardly? Maybe. Unfortunately, there’s only a few weeks left of summer and you doubt that you’ll be able to find another job.

When the third day arrives, you finally get out of bed and take a proper shower. You didn’t realize how much you needed it.

Your mom knocks on your door on the fourth day. You only know it’s her by the way she taps on your door rhythmically; she’s always done that ever since you were a child. When you don’t respond, she dares to crack the door open. Shit, you forgot to lock it last night.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

You don’t move on the bed, hoping your mother thinks you’re asleep or something. But despite you not moving, she still shuffles into your room and settles herself on the edge of the bed.

“Is this because I haven’t been spending time with you this summer?”

No, mom. It’s me. I fucked up. Although, I would appreciate it if you did spend time with me—like you dragged me here this summer to do.

“I’m really sorry, love,” she whispers, getting up after a moment.

Once you’re sure she’s by the door, you finally open your mouth. “It’s not because of you. It’s…something else.”

You hear her grab onto the door, but she doesn’t say another word before leaving you all alone again.

On the fifth day, the bruises that littered your skin finally start fading. Glancing into the mirror of your bathroom, you run your fingers along the—now greenish-yellow—hickies he left on your neck. Goodness, there were so many. And annoyingly enough, you can still feel exactly where he had touched you—like his hands are still there right now.

Pulling your t-shirt down, you see more evidence of Hoseok’s assault on your chest. You have to stop yourself from looking at the rest of your body.

The sixth day you, finally, spend time pondering that terrifying thought you had about Hoseok. Are you actually in love with him? Do you even know what love feels like? What even is love? You’ve always been an overthinker, and these questions only make your head spin more. But after hours and hours of teetering the files of your brain, you do know one thing.

You like him.

You like Hoseok a lot.

It might not be love—perhaps that had been your sex-brain talking—but you were definitely starting to fall for him. You don’t know when or where the change happened, or maybe you’ve always liked him, but it feels good to finally admit the truth to yourself.

Now, the real challenge was if you would tell him.

Would it be worth it?

***

“Y/n, I seriously thought you’d quit!”

Soyoung is the first person you run into on your first day back. You just thank god it’s her and not someone else. You flash her a quick smile and greeting. “Hey.”

“What happened to you?” she asks, walking beside you down the hall.

“Stomach bug,” the lie passes surprisingly easily through your lips. Good thing you had enough time to practice saying those words out loud.

Soyoung makes a face. “That must’ve been awful, but I’m glad you’re well enough to be here.”

“Yeah, totally.”

She leaves you at the golf cart and you get into the seat with a sigh. Over the month and whatever weeks you’ve been here, driving the cart now feels like second nature. You no longer bump into displays or people.

As you drive around the green, you make a stop at every hole and offer the players drinks. At the beginning of summer, you’d been a little apprehensive about this job. However, it turns out, working as the drink cart girl isn’t half bad. The tips you make are worth being out in the scorching summer sun.

Towards the end of your round, you feel your nerves twist. You’re relieved that you haven’t seen Hoseok; then again, a part of you is worried. Why isn’t he here? He’s always here. Every single time you’ve driven on the range, he’s been here.

Where is he today?

Soon, you realize that you didn’t need to worry at all.

At the last hole, you see him—well, them. Hoseok, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jeongguk are together, like they always seem to be. Inseparable. For a second, you think about skipping them, but then you overhear their conversation.

“Damn, Hoseok,” Jeongguk whistles, leaning against his club, “this is the worst game you’ve ever played.”

“He played worse than Namjoon,” Seokjin snickers.

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“You lack coordination,” Seokjin explains to his friend, as if that was supposed to make the burn better. “And Hoseok usually always wins.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it, he hasn’t played well all week,” Jeongguk twists his lips.

“Dude probably hasn’t had ass in a week,” Namjoon comments.

“I’m right fucking here, assholes.”

You finally allow your eyes to settle on the man of the hour. Like his friends have suggested, he does seem off today. Normally, the Jung Hoseok you know is easy going, laid back. He’s usually cocky and charismatic. Every time you’ve seen him play golf, he’s amazing. He always swings with blind sureness—like he knows the ball will hit green. But the man you’re looking at right now is beyond tense and agitated.

“You’re no fun today,” Jeongguk pouts.

“He hasn’t been fun all week,” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Not since the house party.”

Your hands stiffen on wheel. Hoseok’s been in a mood for a whole week? You try to find the answer to your own question in his eyes, but he hasn’t looked in your direction yet. In fact, none of them seem to realize you’re close. They all seem to be thrown off their usual balance. That obvious fact makes you realize you should probably just skip them. But as you lift your foot to press the gas pedal, Seokjin notices you.

Damn. Why is he always the first one to see you?

His eyes widen at your appearance. “Just the girl I was thinking about.”

That statement draws everyone else from their stupor and towards you. You watch as Jeongguk and Namjoon’s eyes also widen, but the only pairs of eyes you really care about right now can’t even meet yours. Hoseok shoots you a glance before twisting away, jaw hardened. Ouch. You feel a pang in your chest.

For some reason, his dismissal hurts more than anything else right now.

“Glad you finally arrived,” Seokjin continues talking, walking closer to you. “I was wondering when you’d come.”

It was weird to have Seokjin speak so much to you. The only person you ever really spoke to was Hoseok, but it seems like he’s the last person who wants to talk to you right now. Maybe coming into work was a bad idea.

“I think you should talk to him,” he says, and it was your turn to have wide eyes.

“I don’t know…” What could you even say to him? You don’t know where to begin because you don’t know what kind of relationship you have with Hoseok. Did you want a relationship with him? Did he even feel the same way?

“He’s been a fucking wreck all week because of you, you know?”

Your chest hurts. “Really?”

Seokjin nods. “I mean, the guy’s always a pain in the ass…” he rolls his eyes, “but it’s worse now.”

Maybe you hadn’t been the only one suffering this past week. As horrible as it sounds, the thought makes you feel…hopeful.

“We’ll take your cart back and cover for you, if you want.”

You stare at Seokjin and find yourself nodding. “Okay.”

He calls Jeongguk and Namjoon over, asking you to get out of the cart. “Don’t worry—we won’t steal your money.”

It’s a joke. You know it’s a joke. Still, you can’t help the next that slip past your lips unconsciously. “Like you all need it.”

The three of them laugh at you as they pile into the cart. Before you can say anything else, they drive off—leaving you alone with the one person you’re most nervous to speak to. He’s still turned away from you, staring off into the distance. You will your heart to stop racing as you wipe your sweaty hands on the back of your shorts.

Calm down.

You take a deep breath before you decide it’s now or never. Deciding it is time, you take the tentative steps towards Hoseok and run a million different scenarios in your head. What’s the worst thing that can happen? He tells you to fuck off and never speak to him again?

Nausea settles into your throat at the idea.

By the time you run another worst-case-scenario into your head, you’re just a few steps behind him. Closer to him now, you feel like you’re going to burst at the seams. You stare at his disheveled hair—like he’s been running a hand through it all day—and stiff body. Despite his rigid posture, he’s still the most handsome person you’ve ever seen.

You don’t know long you stand there and stare at Hoseok, but you don’t jolt out of your daze until you hear his voice.

“Are you just going to stare at me all day?”

“Oh, you’re—I mean, I—” you fumble with your words, nervously twitching your hands. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk.”

“It’s kind of hard to talk to someone who doesn’t even like me,” he says, finally turning to face you.

What? “Hoseok—”

“I know you hate me, so I won’t bother you again, if that’s what you wanted to talk about,” his voice is detached, and you realize you’ve never seen this side of him before. No wonder his friends were fed up with him. You would’ve been too. “Sorry if I annoyed you this summer.”

Without another word, he begins to walk away from you. What the hell is going on? You shake your head as you march up to him and grab onto his shirt. “Stop.”

“Y/n…”

“Hoseok, shut up!” You bring your eyes up to glare at him. “Just—just let me talk first, okay?”

His eyes are still cold, but you can see a bit of softness pool in them. “Fine.”

“You’re an idiot,” you breathe, dropping your fist and feeling something prick your vision. “I-I don’t hate you…I don’t hate you at all. And I don’t want you to stop bothering me. Yes, you’re annoying”—you feel him take a step away— “but I like it. I like you. I like you a lot, Hoseok. So much…I don’t even know—”

He stops your rambling with his lips. The kiss makes your heart soar and ache all at once because it feels so damn good—Hoseok feels so damn good. But it ends all too soon when he pulls away.

“I like you too.”

“Then why are you being so mean to me?” You feel an onslaught of tears flow down your cheeks.

Hoseok wipes a tear away with his thumb. “Because I thought you hated me.”

“Well, I don’t,” you sniffle.

“Then, why’d you leave?”

You know he’s talking about that morning. Do you tell him the truth? “Because I thought I was in love with you.”

“Love?” he chokes, and you feel a blush heat your face. “What made you think that?”

“Uh…it was just a sudden thought,” you awkwardly scratch the side of your face. “But I thought about it, and it’s not love…at least, not yet.”

You say that last part so quietly, you don’t think Hoseok even heard. However, the way his eyes gloss over for a moment lets you know that he did. You’re even more embarrassed now. You try to cover your face, but he grabs both of your hands before you can.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, yeah?” Look at him being the rational one here.

You nod, agreeing with him. “So, we like each other.”

“We do,” he says, suddenly pulling you closer to him. Your body hums being so close to him. Being close like this, you’re able to wrap your arms around him and does the same—hand moving to the back of your neck to tilt your head back. At this angle, you’re exposed to him.

“So, what are we?” you dared to ask the question.

Hoseok ghosts his lips over you. “I don’t like sharing.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I haven’t been with anyone else this summer.”

It’s the truth. You haven’t even looked twice at anyone else. You haven’t desired anyone else. You don’t think you ever can again. Jung Hoseok has ruined you.

“Me either.”

“You and Nina—”

“We’re just family friends, remember?” he cuts you off.

“She clearly likes you.”

“Well, she’s not you. I’ve told you that before.”

He did. And, for some reason, you believed him.

“So, what are we?” you ask again, looking up at Hoseok to gauge what he’s going to say. He stares down at you for a moment before that smirk you know all too well graces his lips. As irritating as it is, you’ve missed it.

“We’re dating,” his eyes sparkle, before dimming a little. “If you’ll have me.”

Warmth pools in your stomach as you nod. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

285 notes · View notes

petersasteria · 3 years

Text

The Life of A Mobster's Wife || Arvin Russell

Russell || Main || Taglist

Mob!Arvin x Reader (Modern AU) Requested? Nah 9,818 words (pls send feedback bc this is the longest mob fic i've done and i want to know if it's alright or if i should just leave the mob au alone sksk) W: asshole!arvin, doesn't follow canon, curse words, killing, cheating, so many fucked up shit

* * * *

Being married to a mobster wasn’t easy. Everything has to be kept under wraps whilst having a lavish lifestyle. But when you’re young, you’re naive and you think that everything will work out and you’ll live happily ever after like some Disney fairytale. Everyone seems to forget that Disney princess stories were adapted from the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen. You didn’t know that your life would take such a dark turn the moment you met Arvin. The second he smiled at you, you were a goner. You were hooked on him; addicted. Everything should’ve been a red flag and the people around you told you that something about him seemed off. That should have alarmed you, but you took what they said personally. One by one, they all left you and only Arvin was left by your side. That should have been a sign too.

You told yourself that you’d be happy and you were. You were together for six months and then you got married. Now, six years later, you have a son who just turned six and a husband who doesn’t even sleep in the same bed as you anymore. You didn’t know what went wrong, but everything suddenly changed.

Arvin made sure you and your son were away from him, so he bought a big apartment in the Upper East Side for both of you. Arvin would stay there sometimes, but most of the time, he was working; killing, kidnapping people for ransom, selling weapons, selling drugs, etc. He wanted you away from those especially, Hayden; your son.

You wanted for things to change because Hayden hardly ever sees Arvin and they don’t have a connection. You also wanted another baby and you felt like Arvin was too busy for that. Wanting to focus on your husband, you decided it was best to hire a nanny to attend to your son’s needs. However, it was difficult to look for a nanny when you’re keeping everything a secret. You were lucky enough to hire a personal doctor.

Amelia Avery Hudson is a trauma surgeon, but you hired her as your personal doctor to treat your husband and his men if they have wounds. The other doctors you asked turned down your offer. When you asked Amelia, she immediately agreed. Amelia didn’t really have a choice. She applied because she needed to pay her student loans back. Plus, she needed to keep a roof over her head and rent was expensive in New York. She’s a fresh graduate and she had trouble finding a job that fitted her career path. Your offer was perfect and she saw it just in time. She hoped that no one took the job yet and luck was on her side because she’s been your personal doctor ever since.

Amelia’s only there during the evening from 7PM until 12 midnight. Having signed an NDA, she had no one to tell about the things she’s seen. She knew that if she even tried, Arvin would somehow find out and kill her with no mercy. She didn’t want to risk it.

Amelia’s feisty, but she was nice. The poor girl had a terrible life. She kept moving from one foster home to another when she was younger. Because of that, she grew up strong. She’s a remarkable woman and you were glad that you met her. You weren’t close, but you had a good relationship with her. Sometimes, she’d entertain Hayden which meant a lot to you.

You put up a poster for the nanny position and a few applicants were interested. You looked through their resumes and interviewed them one by one. Out of everyone, only one person stood out. Her name was Celeste.

“Tell me more about yourself, Celeste.” You smiled at her. You didn’t feel comfortable interviewing people in your apartment, so you always made sure the interviewees met you in your favorite restaurant in the upper east side.

“I-I’m Celeste Regina Dela Cruz. Eighteen years old. Um-”

“I know those things.” You laughed. “It’s on your resume. Just loosen up and tell me about yourself. Would it make you more comfortable if I went first?”

Celeste nodded, clearly intimidated. You smiled and said, “I’m Y/N Russell and I never finished college because I got married. I dropped out and left everything behind to be with my husband. I was also pregnant when we got married, so we never really had a decent alone time. I volunteer a lot for my son’s school and I make sure that my son has everything. Right now, he’s on a waiting list for multiple colleges.”

“Wait, how old is he?”

“He’s 6 years old.” You said before taking a sip of water. “It’s nice to be prepared, though. At least we know that he has a slot when the time comes.”

Celeste nodded and you motioned for her to start talking about herself. She widened her eyes and opened her mouth to talk, but the waiter arrived with your food. You both thanked the waiter and began eating.

“Please continue, Celeste.” You said as you took a bite of your food.

“I’m Celeste and I’m from the Philippines.” She said. “No wonder your accent is thick.” You pointed out and nodded for her to continue.

“I was able to come here because my tita- ay sorry- aunt; my aunt brought me here a year ago. I graduated high school, but I can’t go to college yet because my aunt is sick and she’s the one who pays for my schooling. College is very expensive and we can’t afford it anymore because of my aunt’s medicines.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You frowned. You felt bad, truly. Here you were, a college dropout but you’re living a luxurious lifestyle. Of course, that’s all thanks to Arvin. You were just lucky that you married a rich man. But as you sat in front of Celeste, you felt the need to do something nice for her. After all, in your mind, she was hired already.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Celeste smiled. “We’re getting by. My friend told me to apply to you and that’s why I’m here.”

“I understand.” You said as you folded your hands on the table. “When can you start?”

“Ha? What?” Celeste furrowed her eyebrows.

“You’re hired, Celeste.” You chuckled. “When can you start?”

“Um… as soon as possible!” Celeste exclaimed and you nodded.

“Pack your things and I’ll send for Pemberley to pick you up at your home address. I’d just like to confirm that your address on your resume is still your home, yes?” You asked and she nodded quickly.

“Okay. I’ll give it to Pemberley. He’ll pick you up at 9:30AM sharp.” You grinned. You both shook hands and continued eating.

The next day, you welcomed Celeste in your apartment and gave her a tour. She looked amazed at everything and it was entertaining to see. You told her that she wasn’t allowed in the master bedroom unless told and she wasn’t allowed in Arvin’s office.

You looked at your watch and gasped, “Oh, my! I’m late for a meeting. Make yourself at home and don’t forget to pick up Hayden from pre-school at 2:15. I have a note for you in your room. Please read it.” You quickly grabbed your bag and coat and left.

Celeste stood there and made her way to her room. After roaming around for 2 minutes, she finally saw her room and read the note.

Hello, Celeste! These are the rules:

Hayden can’t eat seafood. He is allergic.

No sugar-y or chocolate-y drinks before bed. Only one glass of milk with no sugar.

Sandwiches are not allowed to be eaten in his room because of crumbs.

If Hayden has no classes, you may take him to the park or the museum. As long as there are only a few people.

Stay away from crowded places. I beg.

Give Hayden a bath before bed.

Call me only when severe emergencies happen.

Your laundry schedule is the same as Hayden’s; TTh.

Always bring a small first aid kit in your bag and make sure you have a full container of hand sanitizer AT ALL TIMES.

Keep an eye on Hayden. He is your main priority.

P.S. Have fun! Eat whatever you want and if you need anything, please give Jose your own list before he goes grocery shopping.

Celeste taped the note on the wall next to her bed and started unpacking her things. She looked at her watch and realized that it was time to pick up Hayden from school. She quickly grabbed her small bag and ran to the front door.

Hayden’s school was just around the corner, so it was easy for Celeste to pick him up. There were many nannies waiting for kids to be picked up and Celeste was a bit overwhelmed that her job was actually starting. She never had training or anything.

A few more minutes of waiting, the door opened and out came a plethora of running and screaming children. During the apartment tour you gave her from hours before, she remembered you showing her a family picture that was recently taken. With that in mind, Celeste was able to remember what Hayden looked like.

Celeste looked around and saw a young boy by the steps, looking around. “Hayden!” Celeste shouted, causing the boy to look at her. Celeste walked over and said, “Hayden Russell?”

The boy nodded. She smiled, “I’m your new nanny. My name is Celeste.”

Using his manners, Hayden shook Celeste’s hand. Celeste grinned and took Hayden’s bag from him. She held his hand and they walked home. The walk home was short and quiet, but it was comfortable. When they walked into the fancy apartment building and into the elevator, Hayden spoke up.

“Can I call you ‘Celie’, instead? Like a super agent secret name? It’ll be cool.” Hayden said, causing Celeste to smile at him.

“Sure!” Celeste said.

When they arrived in the apartment unit, you were already home. Hayden ran up to you and you bent down to pick him up and hug him.

“How was school?” You asked as you kissed his forehead.

“It was fun! We learned so many things and we had arts and crafts and we-”

“That’s great, sweetie!” You smiled before putting him down. “You can play sudoku in the living room.”

Hayden made a face, “But I hate sudoku.”

“Yes, but it’ll help you stimulate your brain. Think of it as a mental exercise.” You grinned before softly nudging him to the living room where his sudoku book was waiting for him on the coffee table. Hayden begrudgingly walked to the living room and you turned to Celeste, “We need to talk.”

You turned around and walked to your husband’s office. He wasn’t there anyway and you had the freedom to speak business there. “Follow me.” You said without looking behind you. Celeste was scared shitless. She did the sign of the cross and prayed on her way to Arvin’s office.

“Aba Ginoong Maria, napupuno ka ng grasya, Ang Panginoong Diyos ay sumasaiyo. Bukod kang pinagpala sa babaeng lahat at pinagpala rin naman ang anak mong si Hesus. Santa Maria, Ina ng Diyos, ipanalangin mo kaming makasalanan ngayon at kung kami’y mamamatay. Amen. (Hail Mary, Full of Grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you amongst women and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners. Now and at the hour of our death. Amen.)” Celeste muttered under her breath. You opened the door to Arvin’s office and was immediately met with the darkness due to the closed curtains and lights that were not switched on. The only light present was the sun’s light peeping through the spaces between the curtains. You walked in and Celeste followed suit and closed the door behind her.

You sat on Arvin’s chair and read the papers that you previously laid there on the table. “Please, sit.” You motioned for her to sit in front of you and she did.

“I told you that I had a meeting earlier. I met with important people and we went through your records.” You told Celeste. Celeste knew that she didn’t do anything wrong and that she had a clean record, but that didn’t stop her from worrying.

Was she in trouble for declining her father’s call from the Philippines? Or perhaps she was in trouble for cursing her cousin. She wasn’t sure.

“And I’d like to applaud you for having remarkable and outstanding grades. Straight A’s?! I didn’t know you were smart. You didn’t put in your resume that you were a valedictorian.” You smiled sweetly. You were impressed.

“I didn’t put it because I don’t want to be hired because I’m a valedictorian. I want to be hired because you want me for the job.” Celeste said and you nodded in understanding.

“That’s very humble of you.” You smiled. “Anyway, I submitted your records to multiple colleges and they immediately got back to me.”

You opened the drawer and took out at least ten envelopes from well known universities. You handed the envelopes to her and motioned for her to read each one.

Yale University

Stanford University

Harvard University

New York University

Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Cornell University

Brown University

University of California, Los Angeles

University of Pennsylvania

Columbia University

“I want you to look through those and read each one. You also have the freedom to check each university’s website to see what they look and what they offer and if what they’re offering is what you want, tell me.” You told her.

“That’s very nice of you, ma’am.” Celeste said, clearly overwhelmed with what you just told her. “I can’t afford it. It’s too- mahal. Ang mahal po kasi.(expensive. It’s too expensive.)”

You stared at her as she spoke to you in a foreign language. Not just any foreign language, her native language. She quickly realized what she said and said, “The tuition fee is too expensive.”

“You know, for a valedictorian, you’re kind of slow.” You joked. “Sweetie, you don’t have to worry about it because we’ll pay for your tuition fee.”

She gasped and squealed, “Thank you!”. She jumped out of her chair, did a small dance, and went up to hug you which took you by surprise. You smiled brightly and patted her arm as a sign of affection. It felt nice to do something good for once even though your husband does a lot of bad things. Sometimes you think that all the good things you’ve done are payback for all the bad things Arvin has done.

Celeste quickly let go of you and went back to her seat. She cleared her throat and apologized and you waved your hand and said that it was nothing. You debated with yourself on whether you should tell Celeste about your husband’s mob or not. You decided against it and told yourself that you’ll tell her when she asks.

“I’ll enroll you in any university you pick and I’ll make an arrangement that your tasks during the day until you pick up Hayden, are done face to face. Meaning, you’ll physically attend classes at the university of choice. Of course, that only applies here in New York.” You explained.

“Should you choose a university that isn't in New York, you'll be enrolled in online classes." You told her and she nodded.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you so much!" Celeste said sincerely which made you smile.

"You're welcome. Study well and you can join Hayden in the living room now. I'm sure he's done with his sudoku. He should be reading his French book now." You said as you looked at the time on your phone before standing up. Celeste stood up too and held the letters close to her chest.

"I think my husband is coming home tonight, so we'll eat dinner at his favorite restaurant. Get ready at 6PM. Knowing him, he'll be late." You said and left the office with Celeste following behind. She closed the door and quickly went to the living room to check out the letters.

You went straight to your shared bedroom with Arvin and quickly went to your walk in closet that Arvin built for you. You scanned through the rack for dresses and scanned through multiple shoes to match your dress. You knew it was still 3:30PM, but you liked being prepared.

Your phone rang and you immediately answered it without looking to see who it was. “Hello?” You answered while grabbing a cerulean colored cocktail dress from the rack and holding it against you and checking it in front of a mirror.

“Y/N, honey, it’s me.” Arvin said. His voice was raspy and there’s no doubt that it’s because of his smoking habit. He’s trying to lessen it because according to him, he didn’t want to have cancer and he didn’t want his life cut short. Despite that, he still smoked… less than before. He was really trying. Key word: trying.

“You’re smoking right now, huh?” You asked, already tired of his shit. You loved him so much, but you didn’t have the energy of being his wife anymore. Probably because he doesn’t treat you like one.

“Mind your own business, woman!” Arvin hissed. You knew he didn’t mean it, but it still kind of hurt. “I’m just worried about you and you said that you’ll lessen the smoking.” You said calmly. You didn’t want to fight with him; it’s useless.

“I am. This is my third stick today and it’s late in the afternoon.” Arvin said, pushing his hair back. “Anyway, I called to tell you that I’ll be coming home tonight and I’m sleeping there.”

“Wow, it’s been a while. How long will you stay here?” You asked, hiding your excitement.

“I’m taking 7 days off. Starting tomorrow.” Arvin said. He gathered his things, got up from his seat and walked out of his office. “I’m leaving The Hamptons as we speak.”

“Alright. I’ll be waiting for you.” You said.

“What’re you up to right now, darling?” He asked, exiting the mansion and went straight to the limo. The door was being held open by Jeeves, the chauffeur. Arvin got inside and Jeeves closed the door before quickly getting in and driving.

“I’m picking a dress for tonight. I made reservations because you’re coming home.” You told him and he smiled.

“That’s sweet of you, darling. I’ll text you when I’m almost home, okay?” Arvin said.

“Oh, ok-”

Arvin hung up the phone and you sighed. You put the phone on top of the small chair before picking another dress.

Hours later, you received a text from Arvin saying that he was already around the corner and that he’ll just wait for you in the limo. You quickly finished getting ready and walked out of your room wearing a steel blue dress that you knew Arvin loved. You wore heels that matched it and wore dangling earrings that you wore on your wedding anniversary.

Celeste was wearing a polka-dotted blouse and a skirt that ran until her knees. She was wearing an old pair of Mary Jane’s and her hair was neatly combed. She had a hairpin to clip it back and on her shoulder, was a ‘nanny bag’ that you gave her. Hayden was wearing black pants and a button up that you bought last year. He was wearing black sneakers to match his outfit.

All three of you left the apartment and quickly made your way to the elevator. The elevator ride was short and before you knew it, you were in the lobby. Seeing the limo from afar, Hayden ran towards it causing Celeste to run after him. You walked quickly knowing that Arvin hated waiting.

Hayden opened the limo’s door and went inside to give his father a hug. “I missed you, daddy!” Hayden said with a smile and kissed his cheek. Arvin hugged back tightly and kissed the top of his head.

Arvin loved Hayden. The boy was like a copy of him and Hayden was Arvin’s most prized possession. He was the reason that Arvin worked hard and he was the reason that Arvin is sane. Although he doesn’t mind having more kids, Hayden was more than enough for him and he was content with that.

“I missed you too, buddy!” Arvin smiled widely and sat Hayden on his lap. Hayden started talking about what happened while he was away and Arvin was listening. Celeste went inside the limo and sat across from Arvin causing him to glance at Celeste up and down with furrowed eyebrows. You quickly got in the limo next to Arvin and closed the door. Jeeves asked if everyone was ready and you said yes. Jeeves started driving and he turned the music down a bit.

This caught your attention and you internally groaned. You looked at Arvin and quietly said, “Really? You’re playing this music again?”

Not leaving his gaze on Celeste, he said, “My limo, my music.”

You rolled your eyes and looked out the window. Arvin’s music played through the speakers and you decided to help yourself with a glass of champagne just to get through the night.

“Are you washed? (Are you washed?) In the blood (In the blood) In the soul cleansing blood of the lamb?”

The music filled the quiet limo, Hayden stopped talking a minute ago, finding the scenery more amusing than his own stories. Arvin nudged you and whispered, “Who the hell is the chick?”

“Hayden’s new nanny.” You whispered. “I hired her yesterday. She’s from the Philippines and-”

“You know what? I’ll interview her during dinner.” Arvin cut you off. “I already interviewed her and she’s qualified.” You hissed.

“Really? Doesn’t seem like it.” Arvin said. “I’ll do the talking. You already got to know her and it’s my turn now. I want the best for my son.”

“She’s very intelligent, you know.”

“I don’t give a shit, Y/N.”

“Daddy said a no-no word.” Hayden said, his eyes not leaving the window. “Also, can I get a puppy? Jason’s daddy bought him a new puppy and I want one too.”

“Tomorrow.” Arvin answered. “I’ll pick you up after school and we’ll buy a puppy.”

“Arvin, babe, he’s not responsible enough for a puppy yet.” You told him, but Arvin shrugged you off. He didn’t care what you thought. If his son wants a puppy, he’s getting a puppy.

You arrived at the restaurant and immediately got out of the car. You went down first and Hayden followed after. Arvin glanced at Celeste and motioned for her to get out first and she did. Arvin was last and he closed the door behind him. “Buy yourself some food, Jeeves.” Arvin said as he handed $200 to Jeeves through the driver’s side. “Pick us up when I text you. Don’t be too far, alright?”

“Yes, sir.” Jeeves said before driving off.

You all waited for Arvin and all four of you entered the fancy restaurant. The hostess led you to your table that had a small card that said: ‘Reserved for Mrs. Russell’ in cursive. All four of you sat down and the hostess provided menus for you, Arvin, and Celeste. A kids’ menu was handed to Hayden and he smiled and thanked the hostess. Holding a menu made Hayden feel like a real man. He wanted to be just like his father and that scared you because Hayden doesn’t know about Arvin’s job. Neither did Celeste and you felt sick to your stomach knowing that you brought two innocent people in danger. If things get worse, you’ll fire Celeste and let her go back to her family while you make sure that traces of her are gone. After all, if they find Celeste, she might get killed. Chances are, her family gets killed too. It’s all connected.

Anyway, all Hayden knew was that his father takes down bad guys. To him, Arvin’s a hero. But you knew better. Hayden will find out when he’s older. One day, he’ll understand that not all people who take down bad guys are heroes.

You all ordered and handed the hostess back the menus. Arvin took a sip of his water and cleared his throat before turning his attention to Celeste. “What’s your name, and where are you from?” Arvin asked.

Celeste stared at him in shock, “A-Are you talking to me, sir?”

“Who else would I be talking to? Of course, I’m talking to you.” He scoffed which made you slap his arm lightly. “Introduce yourself to me. We haven’t met and if my wife thinks you’re qualified for this job, it is also my right to see if you’re qualified as well.”

“U-Um, okay. My name is Celeste Regina Dela Cruz and I’m from the Philippines. My aunt brought me here last year. I only graduated high school and-”

“Alright. How did you find out about this job?” Arvin asked.

“My friend told me about it, so I applied.” Celeste said. A waiter came by and poured champagne on yours and Arvin’s glasses while he poured water on Celeste’s and Hayden’s.

Arvin nodded, “Alright. Were you a nanny before this?”

“No, sir.” Celeste answered.

“So, what makes you qualified for this job? Why are you here?” Arvin questioned.

“I’m here because… I want to work and I think that being a nanny is the only way.” Celeste answered and Arvin nodded before turning to you.

“Have you discussed her salary?” He asked and you shook your head. He nodded and turned to Celeste, “Will $100 a day be enough?”

“Yes, sir.” Celeste nodded furiously.

“Alright, then. $100, it is. I’ll give you extra if you’re good.” He said before taking out his phone and kept himself busy. You gave Celeste a tight lipped smile and did the same.

What Arvin said struck a nerve on you. You knew of his affairs and ladies, that’s why you never visited your mansion in The Hamptons. You knew there’d be a plethora of girls who are throwing themselves at your husband. You also knew that he wasn’t faithful and you knew that because he smelled like women’s perfume and sometimes he’d have a smudge of foundation on his white shirt. You stayed with him anyway.

“Thank you, sir.” Celeste said with a small smile. She turned her attention to Hayden and entertained him with stories from back home.

“How was work?” You asked Arvin and he shrugged.

“Nothing special. Rodriguez finally paid back what he owes, so that’s that. Also, dad visited me this morning. He said that he wanted to see Hayden. I told him I’ll think about it.” Arvin said with no emotion.

Arvin’s relationship with his dad, Willard, was rocky. It was no secret that Arvin preferred the company of his mom rather than his dad. Charlotte, Arvin’s mom, was the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. She helped you with your pregnancy and she’s the one who told Arvin to keep you away from the mob things. She didn’t want Hayden to grow up in such a bloody environment. Besides, it wasn’t safe. She’d occasionally visit you and Hayden when she’s not busy.

“How were things while I was gone?” Arvin asked.

“Same old. The only new thing was hiring Celeste.” You told him and he nodded. He moved closer to you and asked in a low voice, “Does she know?”

You shook your head and he nodded, “Good. It should be kept that way.”

“We’ll be paying for her college education.” You said quietly and Arvin’s head quickly turned to you as he glared daggers at you. You paid him no mind as you took a sip of your champagne. “We’ll talk later.” Arvin said sternly.

The waiter arrived with your orders and all four of you began eating in silence. Celeste was too awkward to start a conversation, Hayden didn’t know what to say, Arvin will talk to you later in his office, and you didn’t want to engage in a conversation nor start it.

After that, you ordered desserts. You initially didn’t plan to order any, but Hayden wanted the strawberry cake that he saw at the other table. Therefore, Arvin ordered four slices of that. As Arvin took bites of it, he chuckled which made you look at him through your peripheral vision.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, before eating the cake that was on your fork and chewing it. Arvin shook his head, “Nothing. I just remembered our wedding cake. It was similar to this.”

You smiled at the thought and nodded, “Yeah, they are similar.”

Your complicated marriage with Arvin made you stressed. You didn’t know how to act around him, but he was a great actor. He acted like he wasn’t cheating on you, he acted like he wanted the domesticated life, he acted like everything about his family was normal, and above all, he acted like he was still in love with you.

The truth is, Arvin isn’t in love with you anymore. But he loved you; he still does. He will never stop loving and caring about you. He just doesn’t get the same feelings as he used to. Before, one look at you gave him butterflies in his stomach and the world turned into slow motion. Now, he looks at you and he feels nothing. In his mind, you’re just his wife and the mother of his child. He didn’t know what to do anymore, but he knew he couldn’t leave you. Leaving you would ruin him because he knew you’d take Hayden away from him.

Being unfaithful wasn’t part of his plan, but it just happened. Then it kept happening with different girls and he hated himself every time. He knew that you knew. After all, he wasn’t discreet about it either. Both of you just pretend that nothing’s happening, it’s all swept under the rug and it’s killing you.

After dessert, Arvin texted Jeeves to pick you up as you called a waiter for your bill. After paying, Jeeves was already outside. Celeste got up from her seat and carried Hayden, who was falling asleep already. You and Arvin followed.

The ride home was shorter and quicker. When you arrived in the apartment, Celeste went straight to Hayden’s room with him fast asleep in her arms. Arvin cleared his throat which caught your attention. You looked at him and he nodded his head towards his office. He went there and you trailed behind him.

When he opened the door, he switched on the lights and went straight to his desk. You entered and closed the door. You sat in front of him and waited for him to talk.

“Since when were we paying for someone else’s education?” Arvin asked.

“Since now.” You answered boldly. He bit the inside of his cheek and nodded, “Why?”

“I’ve seen her records. She’s a valedictorian and she deserves to go to college. Her aunt can’t pay for it and I volunteered. It’s a little ‘thank you’ for taking care of Hayden. Taking care of a child isn’t easy.” You explained.

“That’s her job. Her little ‘thank you’ is her salary.” Arvin said with his thick accent.

“She deserves more than that.” You told him. “We have so much money, anyway. Paying for her college education won’t even cause a dent in our bank account. Besides, you told her that if she’s good, you’ll give her extra cash. Now, what do you mean by that?”

You and Arvin stared at each other in silence. The tension was thick. It was obvious that you both have problems that you refused to bring up.

“Let’s go to bed.” Arvin said after a minute. He stood up and you stood up too. Both of you left his office and he turned the lights off. He went straight to your shared bedroom and you went to Hayden’s bedroom. When you peeked inside, Hayden was already asleep and wearing his pajamas. You took off your shoes and walked to his bed. You laid down next to him and hugged him as tears streamed down your face.

Being Arvin’s wife wasn’t easy and it wasn’t like the fantasy you had initially thought. You wanted a happy family, but Arvin doesn’t even lay with you anymore. Your day was tiring and chaotic with a mix of high and low emotions. You knew that it would repeat the next day and you already dreaded it. For now, you’ll just cuddle your 6-year-old son and try to get some sleep.

The next few days consisted of doing your daily tasks. The only difference is, Arvin was home and he joined in various tasks. He accompanied Celeste in picking up Hayden at school and true to his word, Arvin bought Hayden a puppy.

Now, the puppy is part of your daily tasks too. Hayden named his puppy 'Jack' and he loved it. Part of his new daily life, Hayden always made sure that Jack was nearby whenever he did anything whether it be sudoku or reading his French picture books.

Arvin loved Jack too. He even swore to Jack that he'd come home often. You rolled your eyes at that, but chose not to say anything. While you thought that nothing in your marriage will surprise you, you thought wrong. After his 7 days off, Arvin came home every night solely because of Jack and Hayden.

'Perfect.' You thought. 'At least he's coming home every night.'

It was now Sunday which meant that Hayden had horseback riding lessons at the back of your mansion in The Hamptons. Celeste was watching over Hayden with her cheap sunglasses on. The skirt of her dress was slightly lifting up due to the wind. You offered your hat to her, but she declined. She said that she was used to the sun because of the weather in the Philippines.

You and Arvin were in his office looking over Celeste’s university of choice. You were making calls and Arvin was checking out the university’s website on his laptop. You were currently on hold and you grabbed Celeste’s acceptance letter from Arvin’s desk. The envelope was open and you sat down on Arvin’s desk as you took out the letter from the envelope and read it.

Cornell University

Celeste Regina Dela Cruz 2264 Oak Street Manhattan, New York 10021

Dear Celeste Regina:

Congratulations on your acceptance into the College of Engineering at Cornell University! We are very pleased to be welcoming you to this coming academic year.

Very soon, you will receive your official letter of acceptance from us in the mail. We are excited that you will be joining the Cornell community and know that you will make a very positive contribution to the university.

Best regards,

Amanda K. Bishop Associate Vice Provost for Enrollment Cornell University

ENROLL AND DEPOSIT ONLINE: Please retain the URL and PIN provided in the notification email you received, as well as the password you created to view this letter. You will need all three in order to log in again to complete the Enrollment Response Form and submit your enrollment deposit.

You finished reading and before you knew it, you weren’t on hold anymore. You began talking to the person in charge and Arvin glanced at you from time to time while scrolling through Cornell’s website.

“I think she’ll enjoy Cornell, darling.” Arvin said, exiting Cornell’s site and you glanced at him and gave him a thumbs up before turning your attention to the call again. After an hour, you end the call and turn to Arvin.

“They agreed to let her do online classes and occasionally attend classes physically.” You informed him and he nodded.

“Do you think Hayden will get into Cornell? It’s a nice university.” Arvin asked. “I don’t really care where he gets in. I’ll be proud regardless.”

You gave him a small smile and said, “That’s wonderful. Speaking of Hayden, his horseback riding lessons should be done by now. Let’s go.”

You left Arvin’s office and he quickly followed behind you. “Is there something wrong?” He asked and you shook your head, not saying anything.

Days went on that way. You talked to Arvin less and less and he was starting to catch on to that. He also noticed that you don’t sleep next to him anymore and that you always made sure that you weren’t home when he comes home from the mob business.

The party was in full swing and the children were having so much fun. Arvin wasn’t a fan of parties, but he decided that it would be nice to have other children around the apartment. Hayden’s friends and classmates played around and the nannies were all huddled in one corner as they watched the children. Some of them even played with Jack.

You were with the parents and you couldn’t find Arvin. It was time for Hayden to blow the candles and you wanted you and Arvin to be there beside him. You looked for him everywhere and you forgot to check his home office. ‘He’s most likely in there.’ You told yourself.

Without knocking, you walked in and gasped when you saw the sight in front of you. The back of Arvin’s chair was facing you, but you didn’t need the chair to fully face you to know what they’re doing. A young woman, in her early 20s, was sitting on Arvin’s lap and you could see her bouncing up and down. Arvin wasn’t even hiding the fact that he was enjoying it. You quickly left and closed the door.

You knew he was cheating on you, but seeing him in action made it so real. You told yourself that you weren’t going to cry, but the tears you held back were freely streaming down your face. You quickly wiped them away and Celeste saw you.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” She asked. She was worried about you. You faked a smile and nodded, “Yeah, I’m alright. I just can’t believe that Hayden is 7 already! Time flies by so fast.”

Celeste nodded and smiled, “Okay. Hayden wants to blow his cake now.”

“Okay. Tell him to get ready.” You told her and she nodded, quickly leaving you alone. You glanced at the door of Arvin’s office and debated on calling Arvin’s attention or not. You decided that you weren’t going to call for him. If he cared about the little family you made, he would have the decency to not cheat on you on your son’s birthday. With that in mind, you held your head high and walked to the kitchen where everyone was waiting. Hayden was sitting on the bar stool while his cake was placed in front of him, on top of the countertop.

You smiled brightly at him and stood next to him. You kissed his cheek and gave him a side hug. “Where’s daddy?” Hayden asked you, looking up at you with innocent eyes.

“He’s busy cheating on mommy, sweetheart.” You wanted to say so bad, but you held back. It wasn’t nice to bring personal problems to parties. Especially your 7-year-old son’s party.

“He’s answering an important call for work, buddy. He’ll catch up later.” You lied. Hayden frowned, but his mood changed when everyone started singing ‘Happy Birthday’ while some took pictures of you two. Celeste lit the candle that was shaped like the number 7. After the song, Hayden closed his eyes and made a wish before blowing his candle. Everyone clapped and you gave everyone a slice of cake.

When everyone was eating, Arvin finally walked out of his office with the young woman with him. He gave her $100 and whispered, “This is for not telling anyone and for spending time with me.” He winked at her and she blushed before quickly walking off to the kid she was watching.

Unbeknownst to them, Celeste saw the whole thing. She looked at you, Hayden, and Arvin and she looked torn. She wanted to tell you, but she was scared of Arvin. She thought that he was sketchy and she didn’t fully trust him. If she doesn't tell you, she’ll feel bad. So she quickly went to her room, called her sister and sat on her bed.

Toni, her sister, answered, “Oh, bakit ka napatawag? (Why did you call?)”

“May chika ako! Tangina, ‘di ko alam kung ano gagawin ko. (I have tea! Fuck, I don’t know what to do.)” Celeste said. She was panicking in her room and she truly didn’t know what to do.

“Ano ‘yon? (What is it?)” Toni asked.

“‘Di ako sigurado pero parang nambababae itong tatay ng alaga ko. Sabihin ko kaya sa asawa niya? (I’m not sure, but I think the dad of the kid I’m taking care of is cheating on his wife. What if I tell his wife?)” Celeste bit her nails nervously. Toni was quiet and said, “Ikaw bahala. Kung sa tingin mong kakainin ka ng konsensya mo, sabihin mo na. Kung kaya mong magkunwari na wala kang alam, edi ‘wag mo sabihin. (It’s up to you. If you think that your conscience will eat you alive, tell her. If you can pretend that you don’t know anything, then don’t say anything.)”

“Kung ikaw nasa pwesto ko, ano gagawin mo? (If you were in my place, what would you do?)”

“Wala. Kunwari wala akong alam. Saka ko na lang sasabihin pag tinanong ako. (Nothing. I’ll pretend that I don’t know anything. I’ll just tell her if she asks me.)” Toni answered.

“Sige. Chat nalang kita mamaya. Kailangan na ako sa labas. (Okay. I’ll chat with you later. I think they need me outside.)”

“Okay, bye!” Toni said before hanging up. Celeste took a deep breath and walked out of her room.

Some people were already leaving and Celeste immediately grabbed a big garbage bag to pick up the paper plates and paper cups that were left behind.

“Where have you been?” You asked Celeste sweetly. She jumped at the sound of your voice which was weird because she wasn’t jumpy.

“I-I went to my room to talk to my sister.” Celeste said. It was true, but she didn’t tell you why. You nodded and said, “Send her my regards.”

Celeste nodded and proceeded to clean up. You walked away and thanked your guests for coming to Hayden’s party. You’ve been avoiding Arvin for hours now and it was like he wanted to talk to you alone. You didn’t want to.

When everything was clean, it was already time for Hayden’s nighttime yoga routine. He quickly went to his room and started getting dressed in his yoga outfit. Celeste went to her room to grab her books, so that she could read while Hayden did his yoga. Jack went with them and Celeste was more than happy to know that the dog was joining them.

It was only you and Arvin in the living room. The tension was thick. You closed the door after the last guest left and Arvin started talking, “Why didn’t you call me when Hayden blew out his candle?”

“Was I supposed to?” You snapped and gave him a death glare which he seemed to return.

“Of course you were supposed to! I’m his dad and I should be there for him!”

“Why weren’t you present for most of the day, then? Where were you when I needed you? Where were you when I needed help with Hayden’s gifts? When I needed someone to give drinks to the adults, where were you? You weren’t around, Arvin. You were busy with God knows what!” You raised your voice.

“What are you saying?!” Arvin shouted.

“I’m saying that you’re not there for me and you haven’t been for a long fucking time!” You shouted back. This started a screaming match between the two of you. You didn’t even notice how loud you were shouting.

Hayden stopped doing yoga and looked at Celeste, “What’s going on?” Celeste looked at Hayden while listening closely. She sighed and told him, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Celeste walked out of Hayden’s room not knowing that Hayden followed her out. She only realized that Hayden followed her when she heard Hayden shout, “Stop fighting!”

You and Arvin stopped to turn your heads to Hayden who was already crying at the sight of his angry parents. The sight of Hayden crying made you cry too. You walked towards him, but he ran away to hide in his room. He locked the door and Celeste was just standing there awkwardly.

You wiped away your tears and to your surprise, Celeste spoke up. “Ma’am, sir, um, please don’t fight anymore because Hayden will not like it. If you can’t stop fighting each other, do it for Hayden.” Celeste said softly as she looked at both of you.

“Hayden is a very nice kid and he’s very smart and he’s very obedient. He does everything you tell him to do even if he doesn’t like it because he knows that it will make you happy. He doesn’t deserve to have parents that are fighting all the time and he doesn’t deserve a family that has problems. If you have problems, just talk about it. Don’t yell.” Celeste told both of you. She was trying to be a peacemaker and both of you commended her for it. It wasn’t her job to be a peacemaker, but she’s being one right now.

“Sir, I saw you a while ago at the party with a girl and you gave her money. Being unfaithful is not nice. You should be faithful to your wife because she’s doing her best. If you don’t love her anymore, why are you here?” Celeste said. You knew she didn’t mean anything wrong, but Arvin took it the wrong way.

“Excuse me?” Arvin asked, offended. “I’m offended that you had to ask me why I’m here. I’m here because I live here. It’s my money, it’s my apartment, and everything here is from me! So don’t ask me why I’m-”

“She’s right, Arvin.” You said and turned to look at him. “I’m tired of all this fighting and all this pretending. From now on, I’ll sleep in Hayden’s room. If you enjoy sleeping with different women, you’re surely going to enjoy sleeping alone.” You snapped before leaving the living room to go to the bathroom to wash up.

Arvin glared at Celeste angrily and she said, “Sir, I understand if you fire me. It’s fine. I’m sorry for disrespecting you in your house. But before you fire me, think about what I said, sir. Also, think about your son. You can’t take care of him because of your job and your wife can’t take care of him because she’s busy with different things. If you fire me, no one else will look out for Hayden. Thank you for listening, sir.”

Celeste looked down and went to Hayden’s room in hopes that she could coax him into unlocking the door and letting her in.

Arvin sighed in distress and rubbed his face with his hands before going to the master’s bedroom and slamming the door.

Arvin didn’t know what happened. All he remembered was going to an event that was attended by his mob allies when all of a sudden, his rival mob attacked them all. A lot of shooting happened and he was sure that his mob friends were killed. He hoped they weren’t.

People were screaming and he heard someone crying at some point. His people were scattered everywhere and he didn’t know if they were alright. He didn’t get out scott-free, though. He got shot on his side and he was shooting his rivals all while trying to get out of the venue to get in the car and go back to his mansion.

When he arrived, Amelia was already on her feet and doing her tasks. She was the only doctor, but she pushed through and it amazed Arvin how Amelia could help them. He admired her and thought that she was strong. Her job isn’t easy, after all.

A few hours of taking out bullets from bodies and declaring one person dead on arrival, Amelia was finally finished with her job. She was in Arvin’s office to get her paycheck while Arvin wrote her salary on a check.

“$20,000” Arvin wrote before handing it to her with a tight-lipped smile. Amelia took the check gratefully.

“Thank you, Mr. Russell.” Amelia smiled before grabbing her bag and leaving. Arvin sighed and leaned back on his chair. He hasn’t been home for a while and Hayden didn’t want to speak with him whenever he called you to talk to Hayden. It broke his heart.

He put a hand on his gun wound and closed his eyes to rest for a while to think about his life. He never really thought that his life would turn out like this, but he knew that someday he’d have to take over the mob. When he took over, that’s when he met you.

In truth, he didn’t know how or what to feel when it comes to you. He’s confused. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing which made him groan. He opened his eyes, grabbed his phone, and answered it without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Hello, Russell.” His rival, George, said. Arvin could almost imagine the smug look on George’s face. Arvin gripped his phone tighter, “What do you want? You killed one of my men. Isn’t that enough?”

“Quite frankly, no. I would send my condolences to the deceased family, but I don’t really give a shit. Besides, it would teach you a lesson from stealing from me!”

“For the last time, I didn’t steal from you!” Arvin shouted.

“Your men joined my mob and stole from me!”

“It’s not stealing if they’re getting what’s rightfully ours.” Arvin hissed. “If anything, you stole from me!”

George scoffed, “If you really think that way, fine. Just know that you’ll pay for it.”

“I’m not paying for anything, George.” Arvin chuckled bitterly before pouring himself some scotch with one hand.

“Not even for your family?” George asked. “Wow, that shit’s cold.”

“What’re you talking about?” Arvin asked with furrowed eyebrows as he took a sip of his drink.

“Oh, you’re not informed?” George said sarcastically. “Your wife and son are here with me. If you don’t give me back what you stole from me, I’ll kill them. You know where to find me, Russell.”

George hung up and Arvin yelled in frustration. He sat up and winced because of his wound. He ran a hand through his hair and thought about how he’ll save you and Hayden. Him and his men talked about plans and when they were able to finalize, they wasted no time in going to George’s place.

The plan was going to George and giving him a duffel bag filled with rocks, so that he’ll think it’s the thing he was looking for; the thing he claimed Arvin’s men stole. Arvin decided that it’d be best for his men to ‘give it back’ to George while he and a few guys would look for you and Hayden.

Arvin heard George shouting about everything being fake and he heard gunshots. In a span of a few hours, his mob was shooting people again. He heard Hayden’s familiar cries and followed it while being covered by Javier, one of his men.

When Arvin found the room where George kept you and Hayden, he gasped when he saw you lying in your own blood, unconscious next to a weeping Hayden.

“Daddy!” Hayden cried and it made Arvin’s heart break. He had so many questions running through his mind. How long have you been unconscious? Why are you unconscious? Did they hurt both of you? Where’s Celeste?

Arvin quickly untied Hayden and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him. “It’s okay, buddy. Everything’ll be okay.” Arvin whispered and kissed the top of Hayden’s head. He lets go of Hayden and knelt beside your body. He untied you and panicked when he saw multiple gun wounds on you. He knew that if you stayed longer, you’d die.

Arvin turned to Hayden and said, “Listen to me, okay? Take care of mommy and don’t go anywhere. Got it?”

Hayden nodded and wiped his tears. “Are you coming back?”

“Of course, I’m coming back.” Arvin reassured him. He stood up and quickly left the room and shot every person from his rival mob. When he saw George, all Arvin saw was red and started beating the shit out of his rival.

George didn’t get a chance to defend himself because Arvin just kept throwing punches and hits. Arvin wanted George dead for bringing his family into their problems. Arvin didn’t care about George’s bloody and bruised state. Arvin pushed George to the ground and whipped out his gun.

“This is for my family.” Arvin panted. He looked at George in the eye and shot his head mercilessly. He looked at his surroundings and saw that almost everyone in George’s mob was dead and the few that were alive, are either unconscious or terribly bruised.

Arvin ran back to the room and picked up Hayden. “I told you I’d be back.” He said as Hayden rested his head on the crook of Arvin’s neck.

Arvin ordered one of his men to carry you and immediately drove to the mansion. Arvin called Amelia and said that he needed her ASAP.

“Mr. Russell, it’s late and it’s not my schedule.” Amelia said groggily. She was already deeply sleeping and Arvin disturbed her greatly.

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. I need you ASAP, Amelia. It’s my wife this time.” Arvin said frantically. They arrived at the mansion and rushed you to the medical room where Amelia was hours before.

Hayden was asleep in Arvin’s arms and he went to his room to let Hayden sleep there comfortably. He hears shuffling around on Amelia’s end as he did his best to tuck Hayden in.

“I’m on my way.” Amelia said.

“Okay, please hurry.” Arvin pleaded before hanging up. He looked at Hayden and smiled a bit at the sight of his son fast asleep. He quietly left the room and rushed to the medical room where you were being kept. He wasn’t a doctor and he didn’t know what to do. Time was running out and for the first time in years, he finally saw you.

He finally realized how important you are in his life. He finally realized that it would hurt him deeply if you were gone. He couldn’t imagine going on with life without you by his side. He didn’t notice Amelia walking in the medical room and he only acknowledged her presence when he was being escorted out of the room by her.

“Wait, no! I want to say, Am-”

“You know you can’t.” Amelia said sternly. “It’s protocol. You can’t be here. Just wait outside.” Amelia pushed the mobster out the room and locked it. The whole time he waited, Arvin was pacing back and forth. He was restless. Who wouldn’t be? If your spouse is undergoing a procedure, you’d want to know about them, right? Arvin had no clue how you were doing.

Three hours later, the door opened and Amelia stepped out of the room. She was clearly tired. Arvin stopped pacing and stared at Amelia who only said, “She’s okay.”

“Thank you.” Arvin sighed in relief as he walked towards the room.

“You don’t need to pay me. Consider it a freebie. I know what it’s like to grow up without a mom at a young age and I don’t want that to happen to Hayden. Take care, sir.” Amelia smiled softly before leaving.

Arvin went into the room and pulled up a chair to sit next to your bed. He held your hand and stared at you. It’s been a long time since he’s seen your face. You were beautiful. You always have been and always will. Seeing you unconscious scared him greatly and it made him realize how much he still loves and cares about you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry this happened to you. I mean it.” Arvin said softly. “I love you. I’m sorry it took me almost losing you to realize that. You don’t know how sorry I am, sweetheart.”

“I can’t imagine the pain you must have felt when Celeste came clean about seeing me and some other girl on Hayden’s birthday. But I know you, Y/N. I know that you’ve always had a feeling that I was unfaithful and I can’t imagine your heartbreak when you found out about it being true.”

“When we first got together, I promised I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I’m sorry for breaking that promise. I’ll be better for you, Y/N. I’ll come home and I’ll stay with you whenever you need me. I’ll be present for Hayden and I don’t want to argue with you anymore. I want us to go back to normal and I know it’ll be hard for you, but I’m willing to try.” Arvin said with hope in his eyes.

“I also know that you’re awake and that you can hear me clearly.” He added as he looked at you. You slowly opened your eyes and looked at him, “I hate that you know me well.”

“I actually love it. It makes me feel like I’m still in touch with you. Lord knows I’d be heartbroken if I can’t read you anymore.” He chuckled lightly before pressing a light kiss on your hand.

“Did you mean what you said? Trying again?” You asked and he nodded. “Then, I’ll try too.”

However, some relationships work out and your marriage turns into something better than before. It happened to you and Arvin. He kept his promises and soon, you were blessed with a second child. Celeste was alright and you treated her like a sister you never had. In return for sending her to college, she did well in her studies and made sure to show you her grades which made you proud.

Everything was coming together and you were thankful that things took a nice turn. Your life as a mobster's wife wasn’t so bad, after all.

* * * *

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @cocoamoonmalfoy @parkerpeter24 @slutforsr @rumplebutterbaby @dummiesshort @quxxnxfhxll @bora-world @supred12 @more-like-reyna

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow @bi-lmg @emmastarz

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell x y/n #arvin russell one shots #arvin russell blurbs #arvin russell fic #arvin russell imagine #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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plaidbooks · 3 years

Note

Could you do an imagine of having a fling with Carisi and getting pregnant?

Fling

A/N: Hey Anon! Heck yes I can do that! Remember peeps, if you’re gonna have a ONS, be safe about it! Hope you enjoy

Tags: alcohol and bad decisions, mentions of smut, mentions of vomiting

Words: 1726

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

It had been…a long day. You were the owner of a coffee shop that doubled as a bookstore, and three employees had up and quit on you. You had scrambled to find replacements, and while the new kids were working out well, they were still new, and needed a lot of handholding. So, on Saturday night, with the shop closed on Sundays, you went to the bar, hoping to just drink until you could forget about your worries for a little bit. What you weren’t expecting was for the ridiculously cute man, his suit jacket over the back of his chair and his sleeves rolled up, to buy you a drink. You were already pretty drunk, your inhibitions low, so you chatted with the stranger, who also seemed pretty far gone.

“Why don’t we take this party back to my place?” you eventually asked, and he agreed, a lopsided smirk on his face, his bright blue eyes clouded with alcohol.

In the back of the cab, you had drunkenly kissed him, and he kissed you back, both of you exploring each other’s bodies with your hands. Pulling up at your place, you dragged him inside. Once the door was closed, he had pushed you up against the wall, his mouth biting and sucking at your neck. You grabbed at his gelled hair, pulling soft groans from him as he marked you. You both eventually made it to the bedroom, naked, and you pulled him on top of you as you collapsed onto the bed.

“Fuck me—give me all you got,” you purred at him, and he growled, shoving himself into you roughly. You moaned as he thrusted into you hard and deep. When you came, clenching around him, he was right behind you, spilling his release deep within you. You passed out soon after that, his arms draped over you.

*******************

When you awoke, the man was already gone, leaving no trace of himself behind, except the marks on your neck and a small, handwritten note on your bedside table.

Last night was incredible. Sorry I left so quickly—I had work. Maybe we can do dinner sometime? – Sonny

He had written his number after his name, and while the sex—from what you remembered—was great, you really didn’t want a relationship right now. It was just a fling, a one-night stand. So, you crumpled up his note and threw it away before getting in the shower.

******************

The new employees were finally settling in, and life was getting back to normal. Though, you were still stressed with everything going on—it was the summer months, which meant tourists, which meant business. And while you were grateful for the profits you were bringing in, you really needed to hire on some extra help. You vaguely noticed that your period was late, but that was probably from the stress—it had happened before. Besides, you didn’t remember when you had it last month, so you weren’t positive how late you were, really.

You decided to sleep early that night—you had so many interviews the next day. So, setting an alarm for 6am, you went to bed, hoping for a full night’s sleep. But you tossed and turned all night, your stomach killing you. At 3am, you got up, sprinting to your bathroom, barely making it before you puked your guts out. Oh God, you could not afford to be sick at a time like this. You couldn’t sleep after that, still feeling nauseous, and vomiting once more after eating a light breakfast. Groaning in pain, you sent a mass message to all your potential employees, asking for them to please reschedule, and then you called your doctor.

“When was the last time you had your period?” she had asked, running an ultrasound.

You shook your head. “I don’t know, last month? I’ve been…too busy. I honestly don’t remember….”

She put the machine down, letting the nurse start disinfecting it. She gave you a small smile. “Well, you’re pregnant.”

“I-what? But…but I haven’t had…” you trailed off, remembering the drunken night in the bar, the man you had taken home. You didn’t even remember his name, let alone the phone number he had scrawled underneath his message. And that was weeks ago! That paper was long gone.

The doctor nodded knowingly. “You’re about six weeks along. Come back to the examination room; I’ll give you pamphlets, answer any questions you have.” You nodded, hopping of the ultrasound table, being extra careful now—you had life inside you!

****************

The doctor had talked for you for upwards of an hour; you wanted to keep the baby, that was definite. But how would you make time for it? Pay for it? You were so conflicted, so incredibly happy yet so incredibly stressed, lost. You had family you could talk to, and you were sure they’d help you, too. But you were going to be a single mother. You struggled to remember the man’s name; it was something light and fun. Benny? Sammy? That wasn’t right. You didn’t even know what he did for a living; hell, you vaguely remembered what he looked like. Gelled hair, tall, blue eyes.

And besides, what was the point of finding him? Did you think he’d want to be apart of this? Or would he laugh in your face and run, determined to not have to pay child support? Giving up on the idea, you decided to just do this on your own—outside help from family and nurses, of course.

***************

Six months later, you were well into your pregnancy, your belly swelling in front of you. Jury summons clutched in your hand, you waddled your way into the courthouse. You couldn’t be a juror at this time, but when you had tried to call the number on the paper, it kept saying disconnected. So now, here you were, pissed and exhausted, making your way to whoever could postpone your summons until after you gave birth.

“Here, lemme get that door for you,” a man’s voice said. He rushed in front of you, holding the door open and you froze, staring at him. He furrowed his brow at you, scanning your face in confusion—not because you had stopped moving, but because there was the faintest hint of recognition. “Have we, uh, have we met before?” he asked.

Gelled hair, tall, blue eyes. He was obviously a lawyer, coming to work. But how were you going to bring this up to him? “Ah, no, sorry sir. Thank you for the door,” you muttered, shuffling past him.

He watched you walk by him, then fell into step next to you, easily keeping pace with his long legs. “Are you sure? You look so familiar….”

“Positive. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find where I can postpone my jury summons,” you replied, your voice flat.

He stopped in his tracks, letting you walk away, and you let out a sigh. But you didn’t make it far before he shouted, “wait!” He jogged after you, catching up quickly. He grabbed your elbow, leading you away from the crowded hall. He dropped his voice. “Did we…meet at a bar? This would’ve been months ago—I understand if you’ve forgotten me.”

He really didn’t get it, did he? “Yes, we did.”

The man nodded, his forehead crinkled as he thought. “I’m not gonna lie; I was a little sad when you didn’t call,” he joked. “But I’m glad to see you’re doing well, and that you found someone.”

His smile was so genuine, so sincere…he really didn’t get it! He figured you didn’t like him, that you had found someone else, settled down. “Uh, thanks. I’m still painfully single though,” you replied, forcing a smile.

You turned to walk away, leaving him stunned. Following the signs, you quickly found your way to the window you needed, negotiating a new date in another six months for your jury duty. Having that taken care of, you made your way out of the bowels of the courthouse. You had almost made it to the front doors when the man from the bar had tracked you down once more.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I-I have to know….” His voice dropped to a whisper, “is it…mine?” His bright blue eyes flickered to your belly, then back to your face.

You could’ve said no, denied it and spared him. But something must have shown on your face, because his eyes filled with such sadness, such regret. So, you had no choice but to say, “yes, it’s yours.”

He took a shuttering breath, looking like he was on the verge of tears. “I…I’m so sorry. I-I should’ve used a condom.” He ran a hand through his hair, tears really springing up in his eyes now. “Fuck, I’m such an asshole.”

“Look,” you said, trying to stop his self-hating streak. “It takes two to make a baby, okay? I’m…just as irresponsible as you.” That made him let out a soft sob, and you switched to trying to make him feel better. “I’m not due for another two-ish months; why don’t we…I don’t know, get dinner one night? I mean…if you want—”

“Yes, please,” he replied. “I…I want to be in my baby’s life, no matter what happens between you and I. Please.”

He was desperate, and it was hard to say no. But you also needed to know him first. “Okay. Let’s start slow, get to know each other. We can figure out everything else later.”

He nodded. “Why—why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he asked. He didn’t sound mad, just confused, wondering why you would choose to keep this from him, to do this on your own.

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment. “I, uh, threw out your note and I’ve…forgotten your name. I had no way to find you. And besides, I was…afraid you’d be upset about it, afraid you’d ask me to t-terminate—”

His eyes went wide, “no, I would never!” He took a deep, shuttering breath. “Let’s…let’s start over.” He held his hand out to you. “My name is Dominick Carisi, but you can call me Sonny.”

Smiling, you took his hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Sonny. Now, if you don’t mind, my feet are killing me, and I need to sit before my legs collapse.”

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #Anonymous

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swanqueeneverafter · 4 years

Text

The Once & Future Queen Pt.3

Storybrooke. The Dragon's Lair. (Regina stands behind the bar with her arms folded, deep in conversation with her daughter, Maria.) Regina: "I know what you're thinking. You think I'm just feeling sorry for myself. Well you're wrong. (Maria sticks out her tongue:) And no, I'm not keeping busy, either. I offered to open the place up this morning to show Robin and Zelena my appreciation for looking after you so much recently. (Maria gurgles:) Yes, I know I should've talked to you about how I'm feeling sooner, but we can't all be perfect like you now, can we? (Maria blows a raspberry and giggles:) Well, exactly. (Hearing the door to the bar being pulled violently, calls out:) We're not open yet! (The jostling of the door continues:) Right..." (Regina reaches under the bar and retrieves a baseball bat. Striding to the door, she opens it ready to swing.) Henry: (Steps over the threshold and immediately puts his hands up:) “Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey, it’s me! I woke up this morning and the house was empty. So I came looking for you.” Regina: “Sorry. (Walking back to the bar:) Never can be too careful.” Henry: “Geez. What’s got you all revved up?” Regina: (Sighs:) “Where do I start?”

Henry: (Takes a seat at the bar. To Maria:) “Hey, cutie.” Regina: “I’ve thought about all the possible ways of going back in time to find Emma. The Apprentice's door, making my own spell, a curse.” Henry: “A curse?” Regina: (Continues:) “But they’re all too risky. All I can do is have faith that Emma will find her way back.” Henry: “Well let me say on behalf of the town how relieved we are you chose not to cast another curse.” Regina: “Yeah, well, now I can’t even go to Granny’s because Ruby will be there to try an ambush me with some sort of group counseling session. And Snow’s hired some new reporter who you just know is going to be sniffing around for an interview.” Henry: “So naturally you’re hiding out here.” Regina: “I don’t like being powerless, Henry. It doesn’t sit well with me at all.” Ella: (Enters:) “Regina. I am so glad you're here.” Regina: “Hey, uh, what's up?” Ella: “It's, um it's been a big night. Tiana and I, uh, we sort of bought a food truck.” Regina: “Well, that's great!” Ella: “It needs a lot of work, and don’t have any tools. Do you have any?” Regina: “Hm, lucky for you, when I owned this place it was always falling apart, so... (Starts looking under the bar and pulls out a large red toolbox:) I should have all the tools you'll need.” Ella: (Taking it:) “You are a lifesaver.” (Goes to leave.) Henry: (Speaking up:) “Well, hey. Um, If you need some help, I'm pretty good around engines, you know, for a writer.” Ella: “No, I'm fine.” (She leaves.) Regina: “What was that? Are you two still having problems?” Henry: “Hey, not all issues are so easily swept under the rug you know.” Regina: “Ella accused me of murdering her mother.” Henry: “Exactly. Some things are more complicated than others.” Regina: (Sceptically:) “Uh huh.”

Camelot. Council Chamber. (The council is gathered around a weeping woman.) Guinevere: “What’s happened to her?” Agravaine: “Her village was attacked.” Guinevere: “By who?” Agravaine: “Not entirely clear, Your Majesty.” (Guinevere approaches the weeping woman.) Guinevere: “What’s your name?” Drea: “Drea.” (Guinevere steps closer and the girl tenses. Guinevere puts a comforting hand on her shoulder and speaks softly.) Guinevere: “Drea. (She uncertainly makes eye contact:) I’m Guinevere. Don’t be frightened. Tell me what happened.” Drea: “My mother, my father, my litter sister, they’re…” (She starts weeping again.) Guinevere: “It’s all right. It’s all right. (Drea nods:) Someone attacked them. (She nods again:) Who?” Drea: “There was no one. Just…shapes.” Guinevere: “You didn’t see their faces?” Drea: “They had no faces. (Guinevere looks uncertainly at a few councilmen. Lancelot turns at the sound of something behind him:) I– I keep telling you. They were there, but…they weren’t there. They moved so quickly. It was as if they weren’t real, but…they must’ve been. I could hear the people screaming. And then…silence. They were all…dead.” (Drea breaks down and Guinevere comforts her.) Guinevere: “Hey. Thank you. (To those gathered:) Where is this village?” Xena: (Arriving alongside Gabrielle:) “Not far. (Everyone turns to them:) It’s to the east of the White Mountains, no more than half a day’s hard ride.” Gabrielle: “We’ve just come from there.” Guinevere: (To Lancelot:) “Ready the men.”

Enchanted Forest. Past. (After reuniting with Tiger Lily, Emma and Mulan discuss plans to return home.) Tiger Lily: "Tink's still a novice fairy at this point. It'll take time to train her fully, but I'm fairly confident she can get us home." Emma: "That's great news. (Relieved:) I was worried I'd have to contact Rumplestiltskin again and I already did that the last time I went back in time." Mulan: "Haven't we gone back further in time than your last visit? If we did have to ask him for help, technically it would be for the first time." Emma: "Yeah, I suppose so, but anytime you ask the Dark One for help, it always comes with a price." Tiger Lily: "You know, the Darkness was around for hundreds of years. It really makes you appreciate living in a time where it no longer exists." Emma: "Well, you're welcome, but I know Marian won't appreciate me being late for work, so I better get going. (Catching Mulan's smirk:) What? It's all right for you, you get to be part of Robin Hood's gang." Mulan: "You think I like being back in the Merry Men? Once was bad enough, but now it's like half of them have never even held a sword, much less fought with one." Tiger Lily: "I thought Robin said he wasn't in that line of work anymore?" Mulan: "That was him being cautious. After watching me deal with the drunks at the tavern, Robin thought my skills would be put to better use training his men." Emma: "Well have fun kicking butt while I get mine groped all day in the tavern!" (Emma hurries back to the tavern to find Marian behind the bar waiting for her.) Marian: "You're late." Emma: (Removing her cloak:) "Yeah, sorry I was-" Marian: "How can you be late for work when you live upstairs? (Emma tries to explain but Marian talks over her:) You have a customer waiting." Emma: "I- really?" Marian: "Yes. They've been asking for you. (Places two flagons of mead on the bar:) Table six. Go on." (Emma takes the flagons and heads over towards the table. Negotiating carefully through the crowded room, she manages to place the flagons on the table without spilling a drop.) Emma: "There you are. Thank you for waiting." Regina: (Smiling up at her:) "Not a problem." Emma: (Surprised to see her:) "Regina?" Regina: "What are the odds, huh?" Emma: (Smiling:) "Of all the taverns in all the towns in all the world, you walk into mine." Regina: "Join me?" Emma: (Glances back at Marian, who is now busy:) "Sure, I could use a break."

Storybrooke. Present. Main Street. (Henry and Regina walk down the street, carrying Maria between them.) Henry: "You okay, Mom? You've been quiet since we left the bar." Regina: (Nods:) "Yeah, just thinking about Emma." Henry: "Of course." Regina: "You know, I told your mother just recently about how I've never been as happy as am with her? I mean, aside from the years you and I-" Henry: (Smiles:) "Mom, relax, I get it. The connection you and Emma have, you won't find between mother and son. Although all three of us have shared True Love's Kiss, so... I'm not quite sure what my point was going to be." Regina: (Chuckles:) "No, me neither." Henry: (Smiles:) "Well, what I meant to say is that we both know what Emma is capable of. She'll come back to us as soon as she's able." Regina: "Yeah." Henry: "And until then, you still have Maria and me." Regina: "Hm. About that... (Gently taking Maria's carrier from him:) We'll go solo. Your afternoon is already full.” Henry: “Is it?” Regina: “Mmhmm. (They turn a corner and see Ella working on the second food truck a short distance away:) I would do anything to have your mother back with us right now. But since I can’t do anything about that, I’m concentrating on what I can do, which is putting you and Ella back together. Go ask her out.” Henry: (Takes a deep breath:) “Sometimes I guess you just got to accept when Mom knows best.” Regina: “Now, be charming, and don't slouch.” Henry: (Nods:) “Wish me luck.”

Granny’s Diner. (Will Scarlett sits alone at a booth in the diner. Looking around, he pulls a flask out of his jacket and adds the contents to his coffee. When returning the flask to his pocket, a hand stretches out and pulls the coffee cup away.) Will: “Hands off. That's me lunch and dinner.” Robin: “Sorry, friend, but I need to pick your brain. And I need you sober as Friar Tuck on a Sunday when I do it.” Will: “I'm not sure Sunday's ever made any difference for that man. What's happening?” Robin: “I need to understand more about Robin Hood. The Robin Hood all these people seem to know and admire.” Will: “Funny. I often forget you’re not the man I betrayed way back when.” Robin: “No, but I’m sure the weight of your guilt will work in my favour.” Will: “Ah, well, that sounds more like the Robin I knew. So, what's so important about learning about the other version of yourself?” Robin: “I feel as though I’m living a lie. I’m in a relationship with the woman who tricked the other Robin into sleeping with her and bore his child. I regularly visit with Little John and Roland and continue to confuse the boy more and more.” Will: “Hm. A sticky situation indeed. I might just have an idea.” Robin: “Excellent.” Will: “But I'm gonna need me lunch and dinner back. (Robin sighs and passes the cup back:) See, you ain't been in this town as long as I have. There wasn't always magic, but when it came, it started at one place... The clock tower. See, for twenty eight years, them hands didn't move. Time stood still. Then one day, tick-tock, it bloody did.” Robin: “I'm afraid you've lost me, Will.” Will: “Do you know what's under that magical clock tower?” Robin: “No.” Will: “A library.” Under The Food Truck. (Ella is working when she hears music playing. Rolling out from under the truck, Ella sees Henry standing there with a boombox over his head.) Ella: “What's that?” Henry: (Lowers his arms:) “Uh, The English Beat. ‘Save it for Later.’” Ella: “I know what it is. (Sits up:) Why are you playing it?” Henry: “Oh, I always just liked the '80s. You know, John Hughes movies. New Wave music. A little New Order, a little Adam Ant. You know, I always used to make these amazing mix tapes, and I was-”

Ella: (Stands:) “You are making less sense than normal, Henry Swan-Mills.” Henry: “Yeah, right. Uh... (Clears throat and puts down the boombox:) Last time I was single, mix tapes always worked when I wanted to ask a girl out, so-” Ella: “You're asking me on a date now? You sure it's me you want to ask out?” Henry: “Yes! Yes! Because the thing with Drizella, that was a mistake. I mean, it wasn't, like, a mistake mistake, - because nothing happened, but -” Ella: “Sorry. I get it. It was a little odd hearing about it from Drizella rather than you but, I guess that’s what sisters are for. I get it. You don't have to explain.” Henry: “But I do! I do because I find myself wanting to explain all kinds of things to you, like like, I don't know, like why pancakes are appropriate for dessert, why the English Beat is so culturally relevant, why I can't stop thinking about you.” Ella: “Wow. You sure have seen a lot of John Hughes movies. (They both laugh:) What if I explained to you that I have a new small business and very little time?” Henry: “Well, then I'd say, I'm a cab driver and a failed writer with nothing but time. So, whenever you have some, I'd, uh I'd love to take you on a date. See if you could learn to like me again?” Ella: “Okay. What about now?” Henry: “Now? Like... Like, here?” Ella: “Well, you said you're good with cars, right? And yeah, mix tapes always work.” (Ella turns around to fetch something which allows Henry to celebrate like Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club. Catching a glimpse of Henry’s antics, Ella smiles and hands him a socket wrench.) Henry: “Yeah, thanks.” (Awkwardly, Henry kneels beneath the truck.) Ella: “Um, I'm just gonna...” (Ella turns up the volume of the boombox and then joins Henry under the truck.) Henry: “All right. Let's see what we got going on.” Ella: “Okay. I'm going to test you now.” Henry: “Oh, yeah. There's the problem. (Ella chuckles:) - I see it already.” Enchanted Forest. Past. Tavern. (With very few patrons remaining, the volume of conversation inside the tavern has decreased significantly. Which is perfect for the two women currently talking at a small table by the window, where they have been most of the evening.) Emma: "I still can't believe you snuck out to see me dressed like that." Regina: "What, this? This is one of my father's old hunting jackets." Emma: (Laughs:) "Did he ever catch anything while wearing it?" Regina: "Only a cold. (Smiles:) But it seems to be working much better for me." Emma: "Oh that was very smooth, Your Majesty." Regina: "Stop." Emma: "What?" Regina: "I'm sorry. Just... please don't call me that. I don't... I never wanted..." Emma: "I understand. Sometimes it's nice to forget all of your responsibilities." Regina: "Nice is an understatement." Emma: (Smiles, unable to stop herself:) "Do you ever think about what your life would have been like if-" Regina: "If the King hadn't chosen me? If my mother hadn't killed my fiance?" Emma: (Winces:) "Sorry, forget I asked." Regina: "No, it's perfectly fine for you to ask. (Sighs:) The truth is I don't know why I agreed to marry the King. With my mother banished to another land I could have easily walked away from it all. I guess in the end, I just felt like there was nothing left out there for me." Emma: "You will find love again, Regina. I promise you." Regina: "I'm starting to think that way too." (Regina slowly reaches out, taking Emma's hand and interlaces their fingers. Emma is about to reply when the tavern door swings open. Two stern looking palace guards enter and stand either side of the door.) Snow White: (Entering behind the men lowering her hood, looks around and spots the two women:) "Regina! There you are, I was so worried about you!" (Regina quickly withdraws her hand and stands to greet Snow White as Emma turns to stare at the young girl destined to become her mother.)

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

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pucketknife-blog · 6 years

Text

WE’LL CALL YOU~ self para [G]

↪ TAGGING: Noah Puckerman ( @pucketknife ); mentions of... pretty much everyone that manages a shop at JIH AND ELVIS THE DWARF MONGOOSE BLESS; ↪ LOCATION/TIME: NYADA Campus’ JIH Marketplace; May 11th & 12th; Friday afternoon and Saturday morning and afternoon; ↪ SYNOPSIS: It do take nerve! Puck tries his best at being “normal”. It starts with getting a job. Don’t call us, we’ll call you; ↪ WARNINGS: language if any, but nothing major. this is like 14 mini paras in one aka the longest para of all time rip my writing lol;

He’s got a pile of resumes in his hand and nothing but time ahead of him. He’s made sure to schedule every interview at least an hour apart from each other and split them into Friday and Saturday, even fit them to his classes so he doesn’t miss any more. Still, Puck’s hands are sweaty as he walks past Notos Towers as he heads to the JIH Market.

He doesn’t know what to expect. His eyes fall to his curriculum vitae, nothing on it but his personal data and one item that says “Trained Slayer” on it, the date of his thirteenth birthday, a dash, and the date of the sentencing. He downloaded a form from the internet trying to look professional, but it feels like he was reaching. He can’t even put himself as an A-ranked Slayer anymore.

He feels stupid.

However, it’s not like he has a choice. Puck likes eating. He likes being able to pay for his own expenses. He likes being self-sufficient. He doesn’t particularly like clothes, but he likes not getting arrested for walking around naked. Besides, at that particular moment in time, Puck doesn’t have anywhere to fall back onto. He’s on his own, and, even if the times were trying, a Puckerman never gives up.

( Even when other Puckermans are still debating if he could be considered as a Puckerman or not, that is. )

Ergo, him standing there, in a marketplace filled with laughing students, playing nice and being normal and getting a part-time job --or a few, if he manages to succeed.

The mere thought of what his father would say if he was still alive makes him sick to his stomach, and not for the first time in his life, he’s really glad his old man didn’t live long enough to see him where he is now.

He steps into the office of NYADA postal services, just a few people around coming and going, and he approaches the main desk to ask for the manager.

“It’s Amram Puckerman,” he tells the girl. “I believe they are waiting for me? I have an interview scheduled for today.”

She types something in her computer, then gives him a solid nod. “Yes, of course. You are welcome to wait for mr. McNaab right there,” he adds pointing at the chairs under a shelf of flying piggy bank deliverers. “Please, take a sit. He will be with you as soon as he’s free.”

He nods back and sits down, unsure of what comes next. What’s he supposed to do once inside? He’s never been in a job interview before. Are they going to ask him to fit him for a messenger bag? Is he supposed to know anything in particular? Is he overqualified? Or worse, is he underqualified?

“Amram Puckerman,” A whiny voice calls after him a moment later, and he stands up so fast the chair behind him menaces with falling back.

“Yeah, yes, here! I mean... That would be me.” He raises a hand awkwardly, and the old man peaks at him from over his rectangular glasses. They kind of look like envelopes, Puck thinks, but grandpa looks like he’s got little time to deal with bullshit, so he makes no comments and follows him into his office.

He keeps the introductions short, speaking only when he feels a question is directed towards him and hands his crappy resume. Mr. McNaab has to make a double take in between the resume and him a couple of times, but he doesn’t ask. He thinks that’s going to be something he needs to get used to. Maybe he’s read his name on the news. He wonders if that will affect his chances of making it in.

“So, tell me, Amram --may I call you Amram?” he asks politely putting the sheet of paper down and interlacing his fingers as he locks his bright honey-gold eyes on him. “Do you believe that the punctual delivery of mail can contribute to student happiness and health?”

Puck raises a brow.

“Excuse me?”

Mr. McNaab grimaces, but he repeats the question, this time slower. However, it doesn’t really help Puck to hear it again.

“I guess?” he answers. Mr. McNaab is not amused. “I mean, sure. Some students... need the support of their families, right. Like, their gifts? So it’s... like, super important... to get their shi- their stuff. On time. Sure.”

The old man’s expression doesn’t change as he speaks, and Puck can feel a drop of sweat slide down his temple.

“It’s important to keep people communicated,” he tries in a desperate attempt to fix it. “I’m sure it’s not easy to do it, but I’m willing to learn everything necessary to be good at it. I’m a morning person and I wake up before the sun is up, so if you give me a shot, you could have someone delivering mail even before the sun is out. I am also a really fast runner, so I can guarantee my deliveries will always be on time.”

Mr. McNaab nods slowly and his eyes go from Puck, to his resume, then to Puck once more. “Well, that’s most definitely something we like to see. At least you are willing to commit yourself to this job.”

“I am,” Puck adds quickly, almost talking on top of him. “I’m very good at following orders, and I don’t get tired easily --I’m in great physical shape.”

The old man dips his chin again.

“Good. Very, very good.”

He doesn’t say anything else as he stares at Puck intensely, and he squirms in his seat.

“So... Do I-” he starts, but Mr. McNaab raises a hand.

“Thank you so much for your time, Amram.”

Puck frowns, but presses his lips together and doesn’t say a word.

“We’ll call you.”

WITCHKEA looks just like a Common store he’s seen almost all over the country, full rooms in display for someone to point at and buy in it’s entirety. Puck doesn’t really understand what drives people to spend so much money in furniture when he’s managed to survive his whole life with a tent and a sleeping bag, but he’s still applying for a job there. Maybe he doesn’t get it, but he could probably lift one of those armchairs over his head without almost no effort at all --he thinks it’s a reason enough to get hired.

“Have you ever made a purchase at WITCHKEA, Amram?”

Mr. Edison Syven looks like 1800′s oil painting brought to life. His white blonde hair is slicked back into a high pony tail adorned with a white bow, at tune with his white vest and slacks. He walks among the furniture as a model would walk on a runway, fingers grazing at the items as if he was caressing them. Puck shakes his head as he follows him through the store.

“Here at WITCHKEA, we believe comfort is everything. Do you believe in comfort as a root for happiness?”

“Sure,” he shrugs involuntarily, and he’s happy Mr. Syven is more focused in wiping a spot on a mirror and smiling at his reflection than him.

“Tell me, mr. Puckerman, why do you think a properly furnished dorm room is essential to student success at NYADA?”

“Comfort?” he asks, and when the other man looks back at him with a raised brow he knows he should’ve answered that some other way. “I mean,” he clears his throat, “It’s important for students to feel at home so... they don’t get... stressed.”

Oil Paint Gent doesn’t seem to love his answer.

“Thank you, mr. Puckerman.”

“I’m really strong,” he adds in a desperate attempt to save himself, but something tells him he’s too late.

“We’ll let you know,” Mr. Syven smiles, yet the gesture never reaches his eyes. “Thank you for applying.”

He steps into Wholefoods Market and sees nothing but a line of cashiers, gazes blank as they pack groceries like robots. He swallows hard.

This was his future now, wasn’t it?

“Hello! Welcome to Wholefoods Market!” a thin redhead with a surprisingly low voice calls out excitedly, and his huge grin kinda makes Puck want to punch him in the face. “My name is Petey! How can I hep you today?”

He opens his mouth to ask for the manager, tell him he has an interview, let him know he’s desperate for a job, but nothing comes out. All he can see is Petey’s smile and the manic way in which he’s staring at him intensely, almost as if it was a hopeless cry for help. He turns his head to the cashiers, none of them smiling.

This was never gonna be his future.

“You know what, Petey?” Puck taps his shoulder a couple of times, offering a fake smile. “I’m good.”

He turns on his heels and walks out, leaving Petey and his crazy smiling as he waves him goodbye. First dead than dead inside.

“Amram Puckerman, here for an interview?” He leans into the counter as the cute girl on the front desk types into her tablet, sending her a seductive smile. American Witchpparel was never a place where Puck thought he would work, but seeing the girls that worked there really made him want to change his mind. “Here for your number, too, if you’re up to it,” he flirts shamelessly, smiling as the brunette looks up to meet his eyes.

“Mizra will see you now, Puck,” she smiles back, and he raises a brow at the use of his nickname. “What? I watched the NAO,” she shrugs and he can swear she’s batting her eyelashes at him before pointing to the office.

“Of course you did,” he winks as he straightens up. “I’ll see you later?”

“Maybe,” she singsongs, and he feels a boost of confidence. If he fucked it up, maybe she would speak up for him. Even if she didn’t, maybe he’d come back anyway.

“Hello, you must be Amram,” Mizra greets him as she opens the door for him and points at a chair. “You’re interested in becoming a part-time Sales Associate, if I’m correct?”

“Yes ma’am,” he nods handing her his resume before sitting down. “I... don’t have any previous experience, but I’m a quick learner.” And my smile can sell pretty much anything, specially to rich white girls, he wants to add, but he doesn’t. Just in case. So he smiles. He gives her his best, most seductive self and hopes that’s good enough.

“It’s exactly what we need! At least you’re honest about it!” she covers her mouth as she lets out a little snicker. Puck takes that as a win.

“So, Amram,” she starts sitting at the edge of her desk as she looks back at Puck. “What do you think about the phrase ‘dress to impress’? What does it mean to you?

Puck’s smile falters. “What’s it mean to me?” Nothing. Absolutely. Nothing. “Well... I’m more of a ‘dress for the occasion’ kinda guy myself...” he shrugs. “I see clothes as...” Annoying, most of the time. “A practical thing.” What.

“What?” Mizra asks.

“What.” Puck shrugs.

A long pause.

“I’m... not sure I follow...” she tries again, gently.

“I don’t really care how I look, I’m mostly into durable clothes. Like, the ones that won’t set on fire, or wont tore easily when I’m in the field?”

More silence.

“I’m not sure you will be a good fit for this job, mr. Puckerman.”

Puck gulps. “I can do this,” he says, then takes off his belt in a quick sweep, turning it into a whip.

Mizra jumps off the desk and yelps.

“OHMYAETHER, GET OUT!!!”

He doesn’t even try to ask for a second chance as he apologizes and puts his belt back on, hurrying out of the office. The door slams behind him and he sighs deeply.

Well, there goes working among the pretty girls.

“Cheer up,” the girl at the front desk tells him as he walks towards the door, and makes her way up to him, taking his hand in hers and pressing an American Witchppparel card with her number on it as she stands on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You’ll do better next time. Call me,” she whispers in his ear before walking away, flipping her hair and swinging her hips as she walks back to her workstation.

He lets out a snort and grins to himself as he walks away, saving the number to his phone’s contacts. At least it was not a total waste of his time.

The smell of Cookery & Cauldron makes his stomach groan and bark, but Puck doesn’t let that stop him from trying to act professional as he introduces himself to Patrick and Ersatz Spitz. They seem nice enough, and the shop is inviting. It’s not his dream, but at least it’s not Wholefoods Market.

“What does being a good customer advocate mean to you, Amram?”

Puck has no idea what ‘customer advocate’ means, but he thinks it might have something to do with being a waiter. Patrick and Ersatz’ piercing blue eyes fall on him, and Puck thinks about having them looking over his shoulder every day at work, which doesn’t help him relax.

“I think customer service is super important,” he blurts out. “If you make people feel good enough, they’re gonna come back all the time. Even if the food is not good enough,” he shrugs.

Their smiles falter. Both Patrick and Ersatz Spitz wince a little bit.

“I’m not saying yours is bad!” he adds hurriedly. “I’ve honestly never eaten here before, but the smells right now are pretty phenomenal.” There is a pause of silence, only interrupted by Puck’s stomach protesting again. “Sorry. But, eh... yeah. It’s like, if you treat people well, you make them feel comfortable and at home, it just makes them feel good. They feel like they’re among friends, so they tend to come back for more, right?”

He looked back at the couple, who were now nodding at him silently.

“And I can juggle,” he reaches. “And I do a mean Barak Obama impression, too.”

Just give me chance, Puck begged in his head. All I need is one chance.

By the exchange of looks between the Spitz, he wasn’t sure if he was going to get it.

He steps into The Spa at NYADA taking a deep breath as he is welcomed by the scents and aromas of the place, its warmth seeping into his skin and making him feel relaxed for the first time in the afternoon. Even if he doesn’t know the first thing about Spas, he thinks this wouldn’t be the worst place to be working on the downtime. At the very least, he can predict he’ll be chill, something that he can’t say very often.

“Missus Graeme will see you now, Mr. Puckerman,” the boy on the front desk tells him, his cheeks blushing green as he smiles up at him. “Please, follow me.”

The changeling guides him through a long hallway, doors to each side with different signs that list the special treatments, until they get to the other side and he opens the last door to reveal Millicent Graeme’s office.

“You must be Amram,” she greets him with a smile as he takes both his hands in hers and kind of bows. Puck does the same, just in case. “Please, take a seat, love.”

He does as he’s told, smiling back at her without being able to help himself. Wow, this Spa place was powerful.

“Hi,” he grins. “Thanks for having me.”

Her eyes seem to sparkle as they crinkle in upside down half moons, “Of course, everyone is welcome here at The Spa at NYADA, dear boy.” She takes the resume the changelling hands her and reads it over, brow quirking and smile faltering only slightly.

“Oh,” she sighs, and Puck can swear she looks disappointed. “Well. That’s unexpected.” Still, she puts the curriculum down and looks back at Puck.

“Tell me, Mr. Puckerman, do you have experience or knowledge in physiology and therapy?”

He shakes his head. “I... have some experience in healing others on the field...” he tries. “I can also carry a lot of weight on my shoulders.”

Ms. Graeme lets out a soft, airy giggle.

“That is very interesting, dear. Now, can you tell me something about the scents, and essential oils that help you relax after a long day?”

“E-essential oils?” The only oils Puck knows about are cooking oil and the one that goes in the car. He stays silent for a moment. If he weren’t under the influence of whatever it is they put in the air in this place, he’d be nervous again. “I like the smell of cinnamon and mint,” he offers as a last resource.

“You are a such a sweet boy, aren’t you, mr. Puckerman?”

He raises a brow. He doesn’t know how to reply to that.

“Thank you for your time, love,” she smiles again.

“Okay...”

“I’ll let you know.”

He doesn’t know why he’s trying anymore, but as she smiles, he does the same, too. His smile stays on until he steps out of the shop, when it falls, just as his shoulders and the realization that that was probably a terrible interview. He hates reality.

He schedules his interview at Madame Jason's for Friday morning before his classes, and as the bells chime as he walks into the shop, he is greeted by Ermis Johannes themself.

“Good morning, Puck! The same as always?” they ask with a smile as they reach for their amazing Babka.

“Ye- wait, no, actually,” he stops himself. “I am here for an interview? I kinda need a job and I thought, what could be better than working in my favorite shop in the JIH, right?”

Ermis laughs as they walk around the counter and guides him to one of the empty tables near the window. Once they settle down, they reach out and take the sheet of paper Puck is holding out, brow arched as they read.

“It looks like you don’t have much experience with baked good, don’t it?” they snicker as they slide the page back at him.

Puck shrugs and gives them an apologetic smile. “I’m a quick learner? I can also make some mean-ass waffles,” he offers. “C’mon, I gotta be one of your best customers,” Puck smirks. “Maybe you’ll end up paying me in nothing but baked goods, huh? Seems like quite the offer to me...”

Ermis shakes their head, amused. “You are quite the character, aren’t you, Puckerman?” They roll their eyes at him. “I’ll give you a chance, just for that. How about you tell me about your favorite homemade family recipe, what does it mean to you?

Puck is taken aback by the question. In the back of his mind, an alarm rings. He can almost smell the fain aroma of freshly baked Challah, the taste of the Babka heavy on his tongue, double chocolate chocolate because he’s earned it. The faces are blurred. He can almost hear the voices speaking in gibberish, out of tune, calling his name, his first name.

He shakes his head. Too real.

“Does rice count as a homemade family recipe?” he only half-jokes.

Ermis laughs. “I’ll let you know, Puck. Now, c’mon, let me get you your Babka --aren’t you late for class?”

After class, he doesn’t even bother leaving his backpack in his dorm. Instead, he heads directly to Magical Best Buy and asks for the manager. Soon enough, Ayal Varfolomey walks up to him and shakes his hand. “You’re a little late, but it’s fine. We are in the down season, but we do not tolerate tardiness when school is on. If you want to work here, is important you know that.”

Puck nods, letting them know it was a one time thing of his course running late, and it won’t happen it again, but he’s not sure if Varfolomey is even listening.

“You don’t have any experience with altered electronics, I see...” Ayal points out as they rearrange their cufflinks.

“I don’t, but I’m a quick learner.” He seems to be saying that a lot in these interviews.

“I doubt it,” the employer dismisses him before looking into his eyes. “At least you’re a New Age. So, Amram, what’s your favorite kind of altered electronic?”

Puck doesn’t know how to react to someone like Varfolomey. In other circumstances, he would’ve probably walked away, but he had already walked out from another shop the day before, and his options were limited. He couldn’t take the risk anymore.

“Well, after being hacked when I came to NYADA, I started using magic antiviruses in my computer, so I’d say that’s among my favorites...” he points out, but by the way Varfolomey is raising their eyebrow told him he isn’t selling it. “I also bought a tiny necklace that works as a one tera disk.”

Ayal smiles, cold and clearly unimpressed.

“We’ll let you know, mr. Puckerman. Thanks for stopping by Magical Best Buy; may I interest you in our new collection of Gonzalo the Dragon USB flash drives?”

“Please, sing for us the classic Commons melody ‘The Candy Man Can’ from the iconic movie Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, while you glide around the shop on this rolling ladder!”

“Excuse me?” Puck blinks incredulously as he looks at Valent Antigonus, surrounded by his smiling employees.

“‘The Candy Man Can’! It’s my favorite song. Everyone here has done it!” he squeals excitedly as he points at the people around him, who nod eagerly. “Do you suffer from stage fright, mr. Puckerman?”

“Not really, I just...” he replies as he scratches his head. Antigonus stares at him, eagerment visible in his eyes. He shrugs his shoulders. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

Puck settles himself, grabbing the rolling ladder that sits to the side as Antigonus claps and cheers. “Go for it, mr. Puckerman! We believe in you!”

Oh, how wrong they all were in believing in him. Because Puck is not as well versed in Common music as he thinks he is, and he starts blurting out Christina Aguilera’s version of ‘Candy Man’ at the top of his lungs instead.

🎶 ‘I met him out for dinner on a Friday night He really got me working up an appetite He had tattoos up and down his arm There's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm He's a one stop shop, makes the panties drop He's a sweet talkin' sugar coated candy man A sweet talkin' sugar coated candy man’ 🎶

He’s kind of getting into it, too, shaking his head to the imaginary music as he glides around the shop to the best of his abilities. He has to admit, it’s kind of fun.

It’s not what Valent Antigonus expects, but he respects the effort. He doesn’t tell him he’s got the wrong song up until after he finishes the first chorus.

Puck would feel stupid if gliding in that ladder wasn’t as enjoyable as it was. He kinda wants to have another shot. He kinda wants the job.

Familiarsmart is bigger than he thought it would be, and as he waits for the manager, Puck can’t help but look around. There’s a huge variety of unnecessary things for animals and familiars, a really cool cowboy hat he thinks would look great on Elvis included, and he’s about to grab it so he can see how much it is when someone taps at his shoulder.

“Puckerman, yes? I’m Saleem Katmandu! Why don’t you come with me? Let’s talk.” Her smile is warm, as it is the hand she places on his arm as she guides him to her office in the back of the shop.

The room is small but cozy, the soothing smell of incense heavy in the air. Puck takes a sit in a puff opposite the one she takes and tries not to look stupid as he sinks deeper and deeper into it, but he probably fails.

“So, you’re interested in working with us?”

He nods. “Seems like a really cool place to work, not gonna lie,” he shrugs a shoulder. “You guys have all kind of good stuff out there. I’m pretty sure Elvis would go bonkers if he saw it...” he smiles back at her.

“Is Elvis your familiar?” she asks excitedly interlacing her fingers and tilting her head. “I would love to meet him, if that’s okay with you.”

Puck wants to say no, that Elvis a hurricane and he will destroy everything on his wake, but her eyes glisten with hope, and Puck feels that denying her this would be like taking candy from a child. So, he smiles.

“Of course, I don’t see why not.” He reaches for his Grimoire inside his pocket, trying not to fall in the process and only half-succeeding. As the book lays on his palm, it starts growing in size until is about as big as his hand, and he opens it to summon him. A blink of an eye later, Elvis jumps out of the pages and lands on the desk to their side.

“FREEDOM!!” Elvis yells at the top of his lungs into Puck’s brain, but all that comes out of his mouth is a ridiculous squeak that makes Saleem giggle.

“Well, aren’t you a delight,” she smiles at Elvis as Puck silently begs him to not fuck up. “Elvis, do you want a snack?”

“Do I want it!” Elvis is quick to jump on top of Puck’s head and land on the manager’s extended hand, taking the treat into his little hands and chomping on it loudly.

‘Be nice, be nice, be nice,’ Puck repeats in his head. ‘Do not screw this up, Elvis, or I swear, you’re not coming out in a whole month.’

Elvis, however, doesn’t have time to listen to Puck whine. He’s all over that tasty treat ms. Nice Eyes hands him and is humming as he savors it. “This is SO good, you need to get me more of these, WOW. Hey, can I be her familiar instead?”

Puck rolls his eyes, “I think he really likes you.”

Saleem’s eyes don’t leave Elvis as she speaks, a kind smile plastered on her features. “I like him too... You’re a little sweetheart, Elvis, aren’t you?” She tickles his stomach with her finger, and Elvis pretty much melts in her hands.

“Ooh, yeah, right there,” he purrs, and Puck is a second away from snatching him away. His little foot taps against Saleem’s palm rhythmically as he leans into her touch.

Still, she doesn’t seem to mind it. She doesn’t even look back at Puck as she follows up with the interview. “Tell me, Amram, how did you meet? Why do you think your relationship with Elvis is important?”

Puck thinks about the question as he watches Elvis lay down on her hand, rubbing himself against her as he keeps making really weird sex noises in his head. Damn, he was a kinky fucker.

“We met way back when,” Puck starts, and then gives her a short version of the story. “He found me in a time of my life in which I felt very alone, and he... kind of became my best and only friend. He can be a bit sassy and annoying at times, because he’s super demanding and he won’t let me cut his nails and he keeps jumping on me and scratching me, but... at the end of the day, he’s always there, y’know? He knows what to say to make me snap out of a funk or encourage me when I need a buddy. He helped me get more in tune with my magic and myself, he helped me understand my powers and, even if he’s got quite the mouth, he’s always been very supportive... in his own way.”

He smiles, and Elvis looks back at him as he lays on Saleem’s hand comfortably and hugs her finger with his tiny hands. “Dude, that was so beautiful,” he mocks him. “C’mere, I wanna kiss your bald-ass head, I wanna smooch your ugly face.”

“Shut up,” Puck snorts rolling his eyes at him, but he’s still smiling.

“You two are adorable,” Saleem chimes in, and in that moment, Puck is sure she heard every singe word Elvis said to him. He doesn’t ask.

When he walks into his next interview in the Coughing Coffee, he’s feeling somewhat confident. He thinks his interview at Familiarsmart wasn’t as bad as every other he’s had this far, and even if he doesn’t want to go on record on it, he believes he might have that one in the bag. He would never tell him, but it probably was thanks to Elvis, who has once again had crept into his Grimoire --he has considered keeping him around, but upon second thought, he was pretty sure he didn’t have the manners to be freed in a public space like the one he was walking into right then, specially not during a job interview. Specially not with so many tasty treats displayed around.

With or without him, Puck is not feeling as crappy as the day before. For the first time since his sentencing, he thinks maybe he could make this work. Just being a student. Having a couple part-jobs to support himself. Get his degrees, at least major in Engineering and Jewish studies --he believes he can get somewhat of a normal job with those. He could design shit. He could fix shit. He could teach. He could blend in.

It’s not ideal, but he has an option. Quinn wasn’t wrong. He does have something to look forward to.

He introduces himself to the manager and follows him to a table far away in a corner of the shop. Mr. Yanick Haanraads sits up straight as he watches Puck closely, just as if he was trying to find what was wrong with him. Puck straightens up himself, smoothing a hand over his chest to fix his shirt, looking down to make sure there were no stains before he looked back at the other man.

“Well,” mr. Haanraads starts, his voice low and soothing, “Why do you want to work on the Coughing Coffee?”

Puck sighs, and he stops himself from shrugging just in time. “I think you guys have the best coffee in NYADA,” he chooses to say with a solid dip of his chin, and he’s not lying. He also think it’s the most expensive in school, but that’s beside the point. “I think, if given the chance, I could... learn to be an amazing barista.”

“Learn?” the man repeats, and he picks up Puck’s curriculum vitae and reads it, brows raising in surprise. “Oh. You don’t seem to have any previous professional experience brewing coffee or other hot beverages. I understand now.” He puts the sheet down and gives him a tight smile. The silence that sets between them makes Puck fidget in his seat.

“I make coffee in my dorm a lot,” he chimes in, and the manager nods.

“Of course you do,” he comes back, clearly unimpressed. “Tell me, mr. Puckerman, what type of coffee bean you consider to be the best and what’s, in your opinion, the ideal way to prepare it and consume it?”

Puck is startled by the question, brows raising in surprise. “Type of coffee bean?”

Yanick Haanraads arches a brow.

“Black?” Puck tries.

“Thank you for coming in, mr. Puckerman,” the man says politely, and Puck’s chest deflates. The interview is over.

“Thanks for your time, mr. Haanraads. I’ll show myself out.”

Dick's Sporting Goods seems like an easy bet, and Puck walks into the shop with much more confidence than he’s had in almost every other job interview he’s got this far. He’s not so much into sports, but he’s always been an athletic guy, he’s sure he could fit in Dick’s Sporting Goods with ease and almost no effort. That’s if he manages to get through the interview without screwing it up.

“Amram Puckerman,” he repeats for what it seems the hundredth time in the past few days as he shakes mr. Pertu Leoni’s hand.

“Ah, yes. Yes, we were expecting you, Amram,” the short man nods as he squeezes his hand. The Italian accent is heavy on his tongue, and his grip is much stronger than he thought it would be. However, even if the man didn’t smile up at him, he appears to be willing to give him a chance.

After a quick round of introductions and Puck letting him know a little about himself -what he studies, what sports he likes, what was he looking forward in a job- the manager looks back at him with intensity in his gaze. “So, tell me, are you a guy who likes to display your school spirit?”

Puck chews on his bottom lip and shakes his head. “Honestly, not really. I’m more of a solo player, most of the times.” He knows it’s not what the man wants to hear, but he hopes at the very least he values honesty. “But I have no problem in being a team sport when necessary. In fact, I was one of the Thundercats, the NAO semifinalists. I think you could say I was kinda getting into the school spirit?”

“Aha, aha, and, do you think sporting events are events are important to student unity?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Because, really, who cares about student unity. It’s not like this school will be the rest of his life. This is supposed to be nothing but a stepping stone in his path to success and eternal glory. Yet, he wants to do good. Working in Dick’s sporting goods sure sound better than WITCHKEA.

“I think so, yeah,” he replies, very little conviction in his voice, but he really wants to try. So, he appeals to the only thing he knows how to do well: he gets brutally honest. “The thing about sporting teams and sporting events is that with the whole team spirit, they give you a sense of belonging, and a sense of having something to fight for. Most of these kids, they’re not really used to fighting. Growing up in the field as a Slayer, I think it’s kind of different. We learn to trust ourselves, but also rely on others to achieve our goals. We are a team, because we have no other choice. Relying on each other, how well you can work among other people, can make the difference between living and dying. We train others to make ourselves stronger. Passing the torch is as much of an honor as it is to yield it, you know what I mean?” he sees himself drifting from the point and clears his throat. “What I mean is, sporting events are like the field I work on, but in a controlled environment. You get to learn about your own strength, and by being part of a team, you make each other stronger. You learn to share and to work together as a unit, which is really something many kids who come here never been through before. I think... it’s a healthy and ‘fun’ way to grow. And that’s... well, it’s nice. To belong somewhere.” He gives the manager a smile, sadder than he wishes it was.

“That is one way to put it,” the man nods solemnly. “Thank you, mr. Puckerman.”

He has no clue what that means for him, if his response was enough or if he had just buried his chances, but he knows for sure the interview is over.

“Thanks for your time, mr. Pertu Leoni. I’ll wait for your call.”

He notices the smell of dust and old paper heavy in the air as soon as he walks through the door of Grim & War, and he sniffles as he makes his way to the counter and rings the little bell. As he waits, his eyes drift to the floor to ceiling shelves stocked to its maximum capacity and wonders what kind of things are just sitting there. Puck has never been a big fan of books, but he can understand the appeal. Books aren’t practical, and he’s never been one to read more than what’s absolutely necessary for him (aside from Fight Cub). He respect books, of course he does. He just... rather watch the movie.

“Are you Amram Puckerman?” Mr. Moore smiles at him, lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s nice to meet you, my name is Lazarus Moore. I’m the manager of this store.”

As he tells him a little bit about the history of Grim & War, Lazarus leads him through a mini-tour guide of the shop, pointing at shelves and telling him which section is which and why, how to guide the readers from the best sellers that he wouldn’t buy, to the treasures in the back, those that make his eyes sparkle and sigh in content.

“What kind of experience do you have with magical texts and literature, mr. Puckerman?” Lazarus asks when the tour comes to an end and they stand on the front desk again, and Puck gulps as he works out a way of saying he’s not an avid reader in a way that doesn’t get him dismissed as a candidate for the job immediately.

“I guess you could say, I don’t have much experience with them,” he finally confesses with sincerity. “I’ve never been an super into reading, but I’m slowly but surely learning the appeal of a good book.”

Well, maybe not full sincerity. He’s running out of options, after all.

“My family likes more the kind of hands-on approach of learning, but since I started here, I’ve found myself relying on books and magical texts a lot. If you’d ask me the same question a couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to reply at all, but today... I wanna say, I’m a work in progress. I enjoy reading about things I find interesting as a hobby, specially things that revolve around engineering and constructing things. I’m trying to... train myself, if you will. Make it a habit, reading a little bit everyday.”

“It’s always a good way to start,” Lazarus nods and gives him a little smile. “Are there any books in particular you gravitate towards?”

Puck chuckles and shrugs a shoulder “I’m a bit basic when it comes to literature, so I was hoping maybe working here would somehow... educate me? You see, the only books I read are the Torah, text books on Slaying and weaponry and Chuck Palahniuk. Mostly Fight Club. Several times. Someone I care about gave me some books on engineering that have become my favorites, too.” He can see the manager is amused, and even if he knows he has little to no chance there, he takes that as a good sign. “But, I’m open to suggestions... Is there something you can recommend for me?”

Finally, Lazarus teeth shine through from in between his lips, flashing him his pearly whites as he nods in excitement. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He’s been in Jiggly's more than once before, sometimes with Finn and sometimes alone. He finds it to be a great place to unwind after a long week, so as soon as he walks in, he waves at the staff as he sits on the bar.

“The usual?” A blonde boy at the bar asks as he sets shot glasses in front of him, hand already reaching for the houses’ best Tequila, but Puck puts his own over the glasses and shakes his head.

“Can’t. I’m here for an interview, actually. Do you know where Bert is?”

“Office on your nine,” he points at it with his chin as he wipes the dust off the exhibited bottles. “You think you can keep up with me behind the bar?” he teases him with a smirk. Puck shakes his head as he stands up.

“Oh, Rudy,” he chuckles as he walks away, “You know no one compares to you, babe!”

He laughs as the blonde shakes his head, knocking on the door and waiting for the manager to let him in.

“Mr. Puckerman, no?” Bert asks once he’s sitting in front of him. His bushy brows take over half of his face, expression menacing as he glues his eyes to Puck’s. “Do you have any previous experience in bartending and mixology?”

He sighs softly as he tries to say ‘no’ in the nicest way possible. “It depends on what you call experience,” he chooses to say looking back at Bert. “I’ve done my fair share of bartending for the Guild, but no one’s ever payed me for it.”

Bert doesn’t laugh. Instead, the corner of his lip twitches up and he nods his head. “Funny. You’re funny. I like you. Tell me, what’s your favorite drink? Please describe the best way to make it for me.”

“Favorite drink?” Puck has always been into beer and tequila before fruity cocktails, but he’s lucky his father used to be such a big fan of a good Old Fashioned. “Is there anything better than an Old Fashioned? Just some good bourbon poured on a Angostura bitters saturated sugar cube, a slice of orange and a cherry... In my opinion, it’s even better if it’s a Maraschino Cherry, but my father preferred to use fresh ones. Whiskey works fine, too, but bourbon is ‘for real men’. Or at least, that’s what my dad used to say.”

“Your dad seems like a smart man,” Bert nods solemnly, and for the first time in his life, Puck silently thanks his father for literally beating that recipe into his brain.

He leaves the interview at Black & Deck Her for last, knowing it was going to be the easiest one. After two days of talking to people and begging them for jobs he doesn’t want, Puck finally gets to the one shop he really wouldn’t mind working at. As he watches the display of weapons sitting in the window, he finally feels at home. He’s got this one in the bag.

“It’s nice to meet you, ms. Deck Her,” he says with his most charming smile as he shakes her hand. “I’m Amram Puckerman, here for a job interview?”

“Ah, yeah,” she eyes him carefully. “The Slayer, ain’t ya? Yeah, Davis said something about ya stopping by...”

Puck tries not to take the way she’s looking at him personally, and hopes she’s not one of those people who think ‘Slayers are murderers’, but he’s pretty sure hating on the people who buy from you would be a stupid choice, so he chooses to believe that’s just the way she looks at people in general.

“Well, I’m very interested in the open position you have. Not only I have a good deal of experience with weapons, but I’m also majoring in engineering --I kind of want to expand on my weapon manipulation abilities and be able to create new weapons that are more effective and practical for the field.”

“Weapon manipulation?” she asks, a spark of interest glistening in the corner of her eye. “Do tell...”

Puck smiles and points at an empty cup on the table, “May I?” She nods, and the Slayer wraps his hand around it, an orange flash covering it for a second as it shifts into an RE-45 autopistol. He shows it to the manager, then closes his hand around it and the flash covers it again. He opens his hand to revel a classic Bowie knife, and when he places it on the table and moves his hand away, the knife turns back into the cup.

“That’s a first,” Hilda Deck Her quirks a brow at him. “New Age?”

“Yes, ma’am. Developed that myself,” he states proudly, and even if her face is inscrutable, he knows there’s no way she’s not impressed if she’s as much into weaponry as she is.

“So,” she blurts out a second later as she plops her elbow on the counter, chin resting on the palm of her hand. “What kind of weapons do you practice with? Why do you like them?”

“I’m trained in multiple fighting styles, so I have basic knowledge of how to use most traditional weapons -firearms, swords, the eventual bow and arrow, though personally I’ve always preferred a crossbow, knives and other things- but I usually lean into guns I can yield in one hand. I tend to combine a lot of body combat with weapons and magic, and the good thing about guns is that you can always use them with one hand and punch with the other,” he shrugs with a little smirk. “I think they’re practical, easy to use and effective. Plus, who can resist the smell of gunpowder?” he adds with a teasing wink. He doesn’t get much of a response, and he shrugs a shoulder as he continues. “If I don’t have a gun, my second choice would be a handy combat knife, mostly because of the same reason. They give me the freedom to fight freely and a good back-up plan in case things don’t work my way.”

Ms. Deck Her nods again, writing something down on his resume before she looks back at him. “Seems like you know your way around weapons, huh?”

Puck smiles at her. “I could always learn more. If you’d let me, that is.”

He really wishes she would.

/// Do you want to help Puck get a job? 👉🏿 Call me, maybe? The Survey. ///

#nyadajobs #paras #para: self #para: we'll call you

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